


Dragon's Guide

by Ayleid



Series: Dragon's Guide [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pining, Slice of Life, so much pining, tags will be updated as we go, teriyaki carbonara
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-08-18 08:10:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 90,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8155211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ayleid/pseuds/Ayleid
Summary: This is a story of one Genji Shimada, mechatronics engineering professor and passionate advocate for DIY robotics, and one Zenyatta Tekhartha, humble servant of academia, dedicated to share the wonders of literature and philosophy. This is a story of loyalty and perseverance which lasts longer than decades and remains without falter. - Book One Finished.





	1. It had already begun

**Author's Note:**

> Eternal gratitude to Ruriska, Scarborough (deviantart) and tygerandthelamb (tumblr) for their endless support!

_Save note._

 He tapped the screen with his finger.

 For a second or two nothing happened, the screen remained unchanged and the man tilted his head slightly as in a questioning manner. For the sake of emphasis he tapped the button again.

It did still nothing.

 At this point he stopped in his tracks and after a quick glance around at his surroundings, stepped to the margin of the pavement so he wouldn’t block the road leading to the campus’ main library. He tapped the phone with his index finger again.

 “Oh, you are so bothersome,” he muttered with the smallest hint of disappointment, other hand already digging in his leather messenger bag until he pulled a paperback notebook out of it. With a bit of balancing he flipped to the right page to read his friend’s instructions and contemplated on the options available. The stocky, neat handwriting told him to contact his friend and bring the phone to him for repair, it was probably the software that needed update or some other small trouble he could fix up in no time.

His phone had frozen twice on him today; once during the morning alarm and the second now. Neither of them had happened close to each other but had happened nonetheless.

The young man, finely dressed and already too tired with the universe’s games testing his endurance, glanced up at the sky with light humour glistening in his angular, chestnut brown eyes. Giving another look down at his phone with a light-hearted, disapproving shake of his head, Zenyatta gently hummed, “why are you not cooperating with me again?”

It didn’t matter. To him all days were equally wonderful; unhindered by the weather’s play or his own occasional clumsiness and yet whenever life or fate gave him the opportunity to see his most cherished friend Genji, Zenyatta felt the spirits and gods smile on him.

…

 

 The odd feeling pooling in his lower abdomen never truly left, no matter how many times he’d made the walk across the bridge to the IT departments by himself; in his green ‘grannypops’ sweater vest with white button up shirt and oxford shoes he looked as much of an outsider like a polar bear in the great Sahara deserts. The staff members gave light greeting waves in his direction, helping the sense of dissonance ease a little; after all, he was no stranger in these halls. It’s been almost a decade already and he was familiar with most of the personnel -- just as Genji had been to his faculty countless times before as well.

Still, people wore too much white to his liking and only a little color was found around the walls of this faculty building; the lack of colours always made Zenyatta wonder how someone like Genji could exist in such an environment. In these times his mind offered him the reminder that perhaps Genji himself was the brightest splash of energetic colors in the entire complex; the playful thought brought a genuine smile on his lips as he strolled up the stairs.

The door of the office was slightly open, he’d only given a few gentle knocks out of courtesy before entering and almost immediately stopped short to stifle a laugh down and cross his arms in mock disapproval at the sight. Across the room sat his closest friend, the young genius of the department with his flickering spark of personality, unaware of how Zenyatta hummed with the sweet happiness filling his lungs just from looking at him.

Genji Shimada was a thirty-two year old Japanese man with unmatched passion for robotics, artificial intelligence and engineering; Zenyatta remembered meeting him at the crisp age of twenty-one, freshly graduated Bachelor of Science ready to rope the Doctor of Sciences title right away. A decade ago; when life brought them together with the sweet taste of fresh beginnings in a country a stranger to them both, flush and green with potential and excitement. He remembered Genji promising loudly, “ _yosh_ , getting that P-h n’ D is gonna be a cakewalk!” and himself believing in an instant that the man could probably charm all stock of honey from a bee farm just by his smile.

Exactly like the way he lured the best performance from his students; Genji rarely had to hold a firm grip on his grad assistants or thesis writers. It seemed so easy as he demonstrated the process while building towers, pyramids and sometimes forts from the used coffee cups lying around his office.

Today, it was a pyramid, Zenyatta noted from the same spot he’d been for almost half a minute by now, listening to the comforting yet encouraging explanation of a thesis writing process he was giving a student. The thought made him smile; just how many times they guided young and terrified minds through the same hassle?

“When you are done with that, take your notes and draw them up on a blackboard. Take a photo, send it to me, easy as pie,” Genji waved with a coffee cup in his hand before placing it on the row he was at (and the other couldn't miss the characteristic American drawl around the end of his line, a playful reminder of their dear friend). Zenyatta had told the man so many times that he liked playing with his students, since it was almost notorious that Genji’s exams were as difficult and murderous as his enthusiasm and knowledge was wide; yet he was unfailingly generous when it came down to students needing their hands held through the horrendous times of writing theses.

The troubled student sitting on the other side of the table ran his eyes up and down the growing Great Coffee Cup Pyramid before voicing his greatest concerns; “what if I’m late with it?”

Genji hummed with fake contemplation, as if he’d never seen such a feat occurring before.

“Then I guess we need to decide who makes the deadlines. Which would you be more comfortable with?”

“You, Mr. Shimada. You make the deadlines, please?”

“As you wish,” the professor in bright white coat waved nonchalantly, part of his bright green button up flashing beneath the white layer. “We can settle with weekly reports, if you’ve made any progress or have a brainstorm just write it down for me. Every second week we’ll meet here in the office so I can jog that pretty mind of yours into action.”

He gave the student an encouraging smile with a nod and only then seemed to notice Zenyatta standing there, as his eyes lit up in less than an instant with genuine warmth and glee. “Zenyatta, well, hello, how long have you been standing there?”

“Only a minute or so.”

“Well then,” Genji quickly turned back to his latest crop of academia to shoo him off the chair, “Mr. Tekhartha is here from the English literature department; he is teaching Postcolonial and Orientalist study units,“ he stood to shake hands with him, benevolent smile and gleeful eyes looking all over Zenyatta as if they hadn’t seen each other for a long time. It had only been two days. “How can I help you today my friend?”

Always with the kindness, Zenyatta thought as he gave in to a slight curl of his lips, “it’s my phone again, Genji.”

With a playfully disapproving shake of his head, Genji looked back at the man still rooted at the chair by the desk. “Shoo, I’ll wait for your first report by Thursday, Jackson!”

And here Zenyatta thought Genji would go easy on the boy…

“No need to scare them into higher performance, Genji,” he scolded his friend lightly, lacking seriousness altogether when the student was out of sight and earshot already. “It won’t work with my phone either this time. It’s freezing all the time.”

“Have you gone through the guide I gave you?” Genji accepted the device into his palm yet his eyes flickered up with his attention fully focused on Zenyatta’s expression; the scholar pursed his lips as he nodded his reply.

“I did. I tried to save a note in it and poof, it just froze.”

“Let’s see, then,” the engineer turned to his desk, unphased by the Pyramid conquering almost half of its surface and thus hiding Zenyatta as he took the seat on the other side. “I read the new section you sent me by the way,” Genji added as a matter of factly, seemingly unaware of the rise of Zenyatta’s brows in interest as he plucked the back cover off the phone.

“Oh? And what do you think?”

“Oh, I think a lot of things right now. Do you have time for coffee this afternoon so we could discuss? Did you send me your timetable for this semester already or have I forgotten to check it?” The rhetorical question pulled an understanding smile on the other man’s cheeks.

“Perhaps the latter, knowing you. How goes the proposal to Mr. Morrison?”

“Well… let’s just say my calendar-slash-email box is threatening to divorce me, I’ve been a very inattentive spouse lately. If he did answer, I haven’t seen it yet.”

“Genji, what are you so busy with, then?”

The mock-shock and taken aback stance of the young genius’ face had Zenyatta laugh and pinch the bridge of his nose, even squinting his eyes when Genji pointed at the great cup pyramid with a straight held palm in an offering gesture.

“This masterpiece isn’t building itself, Zen. It’s an in-progress homework for my newest victims, tetrahedral volume counting with vertex coordinates, only we’re gonna shift all that into mechanical engineering right after we’re done with the power generating shock absorbers. They’ll love it to pieces.”

Zenyatta only replied with a confirming blink of his eyes which resulted in a proud Genji humming in approval.

“And you still haven’t seen the upgrades I made for the new ‘bots…”

“Genji…”

“I’ll paint them red and blue this weekend,” he wiggled his eyebrows in an attempt to charm.

“Genji we are busy enough with all the publications and assignments on our own, when you are done with the next article for the winter issue I’ll come and play with your robots.”

“Killjoy. And I thought we could team up again to go helicopter model hunting...”

Truth to be told, Zenyatta greatly enjoyed the whirlwind his life had turned into. When Genji wasn’t moaning under the pressure of academics and he wasn’t buried under the brilliant home assignments of his students, the two maintained a fairly reliable routine of keeping one another’s sanity grounded. Even if that meant calling each other out on the silly hobbies they had developed throughout the years.

One of these was Genji’s passion for building knee-high boxing robots from scrap and disassembled model toy parts… on the one hand. On the other was Zenyatta’s inability to pass up on book sales and saving antique art pieces and supplies from collectors - not like he wasn’t one of them at this point, Genji would argue. The newest piece in the glass case was a silver locket with breathtaking ornaments and decorations -- courtesy of one of Zenyatta’s archeologist friends -- and while Genji agreed that the locket was indeed gorgeous and one of a kind, he questioned if Zenyatta would soon need an entire storage unit for all his trinkets and books.

A few months ago and only jokingly, the young Nepali man had mused with the idea of moving in with Genji since half of his wardrobe was already deposited at the engineer’s apartment…

… to which, much for the effect of Zenyatta’s heart fluttering like an ecstatic butterfly, Genji replied, “sure, would save me the trouble from walking all the way to see you.”

And yet upon arriving home to his den of antique trinkets and books overflowing all spaces and yet somehow empty despite it all, Zenyatta brewed his favourite blend of peppermint and lemongrass tea with the tattered edition of Pablo Neruda accompanying his aching chest and longing heart. Words bittersweet and all too familiar trilled within his mind; for the last ten years Zenyatta hadn’t had a day without muttering them.

 

'“I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,

in secret, between the shadow and the soul.”

 

Neruda -XVII


	2. Through the Needle's Eye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Academic thinking requires a certain degree of flexibility.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First I'd like to say thank you to everyone who read and left me lovely comments! I'm so grateful for your support! :3  
> Now, are you ready for the feels? We'll begin now in earnest.

It was a fine day, Genji decided. One of those rare October afternoons when the sun was still shining, weakly and without warmth but the sight drew a content smile on his lips. The fall was proceeding nicely along, his article in-progress passed the scrutinizing eyes of Morrison and he had managed to stay mostly healthy despite the biting, cold wind. Under the barren trees and the bridge becoming more and more slippery than he would have liked, he’d noticed the ivy leaves growing crimson and brown, most of them already fallen to the pavement and yet a great amount still managed to desperately cling to the mother plant.

 He’d passed the plant enough times to note its growth every spring and its consequent wilt every fall, as it had crawled up half of the immaculate white IT building right beside the bridge above the lake. Crossing that from one campus unit to another had been his personal arch enemy ever since he’d moved here, his exasperation against the sheer idea of walking flaring every single time he’d donned the black heelys and rolled to the other side, to the Department of Languages, for the one and only reason.

 It didn’t matter that his students were already all bundled up in too many layers of clothes in his _Matlab for Programmers_ _I._ sessions and warned him against the rainstorms, windstorms, blistering icy North wind, the young researcher had his personal quest. Without fail for countless years gone by, on the days Monday, Tuesday and Thursday he’d brought sweet cinnamon chai latte (occasionally with a croissant as a reward) for his one and best friend Zenyatta across the freezing lake, braving the most annoying bridge in existence.

 The staff could probably smell the enticing aroma of cinnamon and chai by the time he walked up the stairs and rolled up to open the office hall’s door with his chip card; one quite enthusiastic Lena’s head popping up from one of the booth’s to give him a wink and a gleeful “he’s in his usual place!” and Genji lifted a hand to wave greetings at her. The young grad assistant grinned wide and full of life despite the dreary season. Genji turned in the corridor and nudged the slightly open door with his toes, balancing both his body and the tray of coffee cups while staying on his heelys’ tires.

 The look Zenyatta gave him varied almost every single time; from relieved and cherishing smiles to sunny bubbling laughter. Today, it was the latter; as a matter of fact the appearance of one Genji Shimada was only acceptable to be laughed at by one Zenyatta Tekhartha. The literary scholar sat at his office table littered with notes, books and pens and reflexively eased the tray off his friend’s palm to set it on the desk regardless of it covering students’ proposals and his own documents. Upon depositing his coat and scarf on the wall, Genji turned with the usual pleasant smile he reserved for his friend.

 “Here’s your daily dose, how are we doing today?”

 Zenyatta pinched the bridge of his nose with an accompanying sigh of exhaustion as his back slumped against his chair once again.

 “I can’t get used to eight am lessons to save my life…”

 “Here is your medicine, at the crisp hour of two pm! Chai and me, at your service.”

 “Please just sit, my headache is a killing one today,” Zenyatta waved invitingly at the chair pushed across the tiny room beside his desk and with the tiniest pout one ever mastered, Genji obliged. In his experience, Zenyatta having headaches was a heart clenching event which he could aid with neither of his smart quips or greater scientific news.

 “Drink your tea…” he prodded gently as his hand reached to his side to grab the small bag he was carrying. There must have been some painkillers in the hidden pocket. The lithe, smaller man nodded and took one cup from the tray.

 “It’s the time of the year again when I can’t wake up in the mornings but can’t sleep before one or two am. It’s getting to the point that I only sleep five hours a day.”

 Genji frowned in worry, sharp and analytic hazelnut eyes darting and sizing his dear friend up and down, hand frozen in place in his bag. Was his friend getting sick without him noticing? Was he that inattentive?

 “If there is something I can help with, Zenyatta, you have but to ask. You know that,” he stated as matter of factly, voice gentle and quiet, audible yet firmly bearing no space for objections or arguments.

 “I know,” the other waved in a dismissive gesture, pinching the bridge of his nose again and leaning back in his office chair for support. “I’m glad you are here now.”

 “Well, happy to help in any way I can. Here’s paracetamol… that’s all I have on me,” passing the white pill to the other, Genji finally reached for his own cup of coffee. “The break is coming for you, isn’t it? Two weeks left and you’ll have one entirely free, right?”

 A light-hearted chuckle left the Nepali man’s lips, the kind that trilled soft vibrations down Genji’s spine in contentment.

 “Define ‘entirely free’. I have six thesis tutees.”

 “Well now, that’s one way to ruin the fun. To tell the truth I just received a last-minute invitation for a conference in Copenhagen; I’ll be away for the weekend but I promise I won’t have anything during the consultation week.”

 There, he dropped yet another “conference-bomb” despite their plans for the weekend. Gently clearing his throat as if it was too dry, Zenyatta chose to sip more from his cup instead of a verbal reply yet his eyes told everything Genji needed to know. Exhaustion and acknowledgement blinked back at him from the other side of the table and he couldn’t do anything else other than entwine his fingers and lean forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

 “I know it’s sudden, I had to book everything in a hurry, as you can imagine. I’ll be back by Monday morning.”

 “No, it’s not that. I just wonder if Winston’s going to make this into a habit with you.”

  _Ah._ An unfamiliar bud of discontent settled in his chest, much to Genji’s own surprise. Soon his attention was called back to Zenyatta, whose understanding gaze softened (most likely from the joy of having his chai latte) as their eyes locked, causing the younger man to feel slightly more reassured of his friend’s support. Perhaps he wasn’t hurt by the sudden change in their schedule after all; it had happened before… such is the life of academics.

 “In this case however, I’d gladly be your driver to the airport once more.”

 Now if that didn’t put a warm, genuine smile on to Genji’s face, nothing would.

 “You’re the best, Zenya.”

 “Don’t push it,” Genji already saw the beginnings of smile growing and it gave him just the right amount of smugness. “I’m only taking you to Helsinki because I miss driving.”

 “Suuure,” he crooned back, even tilted his head as if to lure more of Zenyatta’s smile. “Driving five hours to and from just for that?”

 “I also like the quiet and solitude on the way back; they help me think on the highway.”

 With mock suspicion, Genji hummed and narrowed his eyes, “you sure have a lot to think about.”

 “Someone has to, I do it for you as well. Some things never change.”

 “Hey now, what’s that supposed to mean--” he wiped invisible dust off his black jeans as a habit of uncertainty, “I believe I do my fair share of thinking thank you very much.”

 For a few moments he held Zenyatta’s cheeky, playful gaze before breaking out with a relieved, amused laugh.

 “Sure, convince yourself all you like, my friend.”

 “Zenny, why must you mess with me all the time? I brought you chai-!”

 “Someone has to, you like to think your wit is unmatched in that ivory tower of yours.”

 With a dismissive wave of his hand Genji stood and smoothed his dark green cardigan, the one he liked specifically because of its easy-to-handle linen.

 “You’re cranky and bullying me,” he decided all of a sudden, not meeting Zenyatta’s gaze but instead turned to pick his bag up from the floor. “I’ll not stand idle and endure this sacrilege any longer.”

 His fancy words were followed by the gentle chuckle of a utterly exhausted literary scholar at the end of his humor; Zenyatta pinched the bridge of his nose again and squinted from the headache. “Genji, stop, please!”

 “I’ll show mercy and spare you only for this time… though I know you’ll miss me,” he rolled to the wall hangers to get his jacket; he heard a full-body laugh from Zenyatta following his moves.

 “Genji, there are leaves all over the pavements, the asphalt is frozen in the morning! You’ll break your neck if you fall with those silly shoes!”

 “Only the ill-prepared and weak minded fall, my friend. I have experience, determination and purpose at my disposal…” He gave another of his smiles to Zenyatta, ready to leave and seize the rest of the day in his home, to pick up the heroic battle against academic criticism with his weapon: the laptop. He turned once more to face his friend and held a hand up with the sign of what he called ‘ninja style’, “Besides, ninjas don’t fall.”

 He didn’t expect Zenyatta to lean back in his office chair once more and sigh. The way one would huff at an unruly yet beloved child; warmth and fondness blooming in the man’s exhausted eyes as he looked back at him.

 “Take care on the way home, Genji. Stay safe!”

 “Who’s the champion of heelys on this campus? I should get an award at this point. See you tomorrow Zenny! Oh, and we need to talk about Friday, then!” He stepped to the door and just for the effect, flashed a peace sign right before rolling out. “Genj-in, Genj-out!”

 He saw and heard Zenyatta slam his open palm on the table in an exasperated “ _oh gods help me_ ,” in his native tongue, ending in a bark of laughter.

 

 …

 

Through those years, Zenyatta had countless times retreated into the sheltering sanctuary of his own flat for days on end; sometimes only leaving for grocery shopping and refraining from human contact, the only exception being when he went to read tales for the children in the local hospital. However, occasions returning time and time again, he’d sought the tranquility and fullness he could only reach through meditation for hours on end. To calm the unending worries of his trembling heart, the seemingly selfish fears, longing and grief for a chapter threatened to end in his life.

 Every single time Genji left for a scientific conference Zenyatta went through the same procedure of healing reopened wounds on his soul with the gentle guide of a higher realm. A pilgrimage to his own soul, he’d called it once, letting his mind sink deep into another state of consciousness and letting his emotions course freely through his entire being, becoming one with them.

 Time and time again he’d enjoyed sweet solitude bereft from human intervention and took the familiar, easy and calming posture of Lotus, his mind occupied with one task. Focusing on his slowed and deep breathing, empty of thoughts, empty of worries and dull aches around his chest. The lengthy sessions of meditation enveloped his form in warmth, safety and the ascendent sense of certainty; every being in this world had their own path, their own course to find happiness.

 Zenyatta was grateful to his ancestors and guides for passing their knowledge to him and found great reassurance in their guidance; perseverance, kindness and faith. During these times, he’d explored his fear of losing Genji and the seemingly selfish wish for that bitter time never coming to pass. He was determined to be supportive to his friend, should the secret fears he held closest to his chest become reality.

 With his ethereal companions’ benevolent ushering, he’d learned to embrace his emotions and delved into their depth across the valleys of anguish and doubt; acknowledging his feelings and the reasons behind them. He’d clearly seen why he feared Genji would take fancy to someone while attending a scientific conference just like the way he’d discovered and accepted his longing whenever Genji would leave for a longer period of time.

 Even so, Zenyatta had long since realized and contemplated on the many, many forms of love.

 Love was him reminding Genji to take his lactose-intolerance medication. Him accepting Genji’s silly presents whenever he returned from a conference, driving down to Helsinki and back just for his comfort. Him having Genji over for weekends, vacations, letting him organize road trips around the countryside or take him paintballing with Jesse and the rest of their friends. Buying him new sets of gloves through the fall, winter and spring months whenever Genji lost them.

It was him enduring Genji’s newest hobbies and (lack of) culinary skills; smiling and holding Genji’s favorite cup even though the way he prepared the matcha tea was really not Zenyatta’s style. Him sending Genji nice things to read on the evenings they spent separated during the weekdays; lovely poems he found as he browsed the depths of poetryfoundation, sections of Tagore and the surprising discovery that his friend, full of life and bubbling energy liked Hafiz’s poetry.

 Love was him accepting that Genji had given up on having a family on his own, for his experiences twisted his emotions regarding the very idea into a silent, coiling knot of rejection and disappointment. Over the years, with the most benign and measured nudges, Zenyatta could only tug the strings concerning Genji’s brother lose enough for the men to initiate dialogue once more.

 And finally, love was Zenyatta accepting that this utopistic balance between them was bound to be ended in one way or another. One of them would move on in their lives and on the unrestrainable axis of time, they would grow apart and shift the paths of their lives from the current tracks.

 He was at peace with that… and yet he prayed for that time never to come.

 

 

_I am tired, Beloved, of chafing my heart against_

_The want of you;_

_Of squeezing it into little inkdrops,_

_And posting it._

_And I scald alone, here, under the fire_

_Of the great moon._

 

                                                                                                                                        Amy Lowell - The Letter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yes... here we are.  
> As always, thank you for reading! I'll post new chapters every Wednesday. Let me know what you think! :o


	3. October Mist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genji returns from a conference.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you ever so much for reading and commenting! I hope you'll enjoy this chapter as well. Eternal thanks to Scarrborough and Ruriska for her excellent beta skills! You can also read her mchanzo fanfiction by the link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/7874725/chapters/17984341

Listening to Dvorak’s _New World_ Symphony for the walk to the IT department was a good choice; his feet carried him with light purpose yet the melodies suited his heart attempting to dull the doubts and questions every single time Genji returned from a conference. It did not help that every time they’d attended one together, Hana made a beeline from the IT buildings to Humanities and prodded Zenyatta about how much he knew about what had happened, even if Genji had not spoken of any sort of peculiar event. Over the years, all Zenyatta’d done was invalidate gossip and ignore the insinuations Hana would inquire about.

Yet, he couldn’t help giving in to the fears. Was it this time Genji would take a fancy to someone he met on a scientific gathering, like Hana hinted at from time to time? She’d also attended these conferences after all… or would it be now that Genji would get an offer from another university or institute to continue his research and career there? Oh, Zenyatta didn’t dare to allow his mind come up with all potential opportunities.

Despite his fears, he was determined to be supportive. Whatever the case, Zenyatta steeled his heart and raised his chin high in an attempt to stoke the kindling fire in his soul; he was strong enough to carry through no matter what hardship life would herd in his way. He’d see his dearest friend find and reach happiness in his life even if Zenyatta wouldn’t be a part of it any longer.

Upon arriving at the engineer’s office he was not surprised to see Genji refusing to stand up to greet him, instead just lolling his head towards the door and tiredly waving at him with almost grey, baggy eyes. Zenyatta simply replied with a displeased shake of his head, “of course you’d catch cold on the airplane…”

Genji sniffed and cleared his throat, grunting in response, “mocking the weak is not a virtue, Zenyatta. I haven’t slept in an entire day, leave me to suffer in peace.”

“No chance,” Zenyatta said as he sat down opposite his friend, “how did it go? What did Reyes say about the proposal, can you start the paperwork to get the funding?”

“He didn’t attend after all but he liked it as far as I could tell from his email. Now I have to write an official application to the committee first… and only after that; get all the motivational letters done and handed in first, signatures, paperwork, Amélie’s approval… damn it’s a right mess but at least I got the green light from him and Morrison.”

His sigh settled between them like a thousand unsaid words. Zenyatta was the first to break the silence; “what about the winter issue’s article?”

The grave look in Genji’s fatigued eyes made the other man freeze in his chair, the thoughts “ _oh no, that bad…”_ crossing his mind.

“The same like last time. ‘Supposed to be more precise, narrow it down.’ But how much _more_ to narrow it down? I dunno, Zen. I dunno, but going to Winston or Morrison would be like admitting I don’t know how to proceed. There is something big going down in the deep structure that I can’t put my finger on… ah, but I still have two months before the deadline…” with a stray hand Genji stretched his shoulder before smoothing his jet black hair back, ending up with a palm resting against the nape of his neck. “Satya sends her greetings by the way, she dropped in the first day then left for a PhD hearing.”

"That’s marvellous,” Zenyatta smiled, for the first time since he’d entered. “How is she?”

“We didn’t talk much, she just dropped in, really.”

“I see.”

“Her little fiend is so nosy I could barely move without her following me around,” the man mused without the slightest resentment in his voice, ”I didn’t think she’d bring Hana along for the Mechatronics engineering block but oh, well. It just feels like she’s got her eyes on my every move and I couldn’t even get a decent coffee in the morning without her skulking around, interrogating me about everything. She even asked who I had dinner with?!”

“Hana is only enthusiastic, she’s greatly interested in your research and how it comes along.” Not to mention she was impressively skilled when it came to sniffing out relationships and did not seem convinced they were only best friends, Zenyatta thought to himself.

“Look, I like how systematically and organized we can work with Satya, she’s a great motivational workforce to be around and the results are coming along really well but when Hana goes ahead and begins to critically question my every formula and approach…” Genji gave a slow, disapproving shake of his head in emphasis while his eyes hung somewhere mid-air above the table, lost in thought. “Not cool. I know she wants to understand how the new CNT yarn is gonna work out but she could just ask without breathing down my neck. I’d be happy to explain, after all I did write a report on dry spinning before.”

The Nepali man hummed in contemplation before glancing up at his slightly sick, exhausted friend. “Perhaps you could tell her what you just told me. Knowing her, she’ll realize the misunderstandings you might have and in the future she will know not to impose.”

This had Genji pulling his lips into a contemplative pout while his baggy, fatigued eyes scanned Zenyatta’s calm and pleasant expression. He was seriously considering his friend’s suggestion.

“You think she’d listen? That would work?” He ended up asking uncertainly, to which Zenyatta gave a serene nod.

“I believe she’d listen if you patiently let her know of your irritation and offered her other ways to gain more information about your progress. Perhaps offering her to analyse one segment of your data collection that you already covered, letting her do the discovery by herself?”

“You’re saying something… I might just do that.” Genji narrowed his eyes, gaze darting from his table to Zenyatta, “man, wish I could count on your advice in algorithm writing just like I can for everything else.”

“Happy to help,” the shorter man hummed, gently nudging Genji’s shoe with his own. “Hey, it’s only…” Zenyatta glanced up at the clock and mocked Genji with a playful smirk when his friend plead, _“Oh please, no.”_

“... high noon, the day is not over. Pull yourself together.”

“I just want to sleep…” Genji sighed, which turned into a stretched, exhausted yawn. “Never enough sleep.”

“You’ll sleep in the grave as the locals say,” Zenyatta reached over to give a light push to his friend’s shoulder, who only replied in a low groan; the way a drained animal would at its trainer, _not now!_ “Or we could do a short breathing exercise and get you back on your feet. Coffee would only boost your blood pressure anyway.”

“Oh, that exercise we did when… “Genji frowned in effort as he looked for the words, from fatigue mixed Japanese and English, “ _whatsthat…_ before you left for the summer school?”

“Indeed, that one.”

 _So he remembered_ , the sentiment warmed Zenyatta’s chest better than anything else that day.

. . .

 

Genji hadn’t mentioned anything of the gossip Hana had earlier asked Zenyatta about and once again for the millionth time, those rumors proved to be foundationless. Zenyatta trusted his friend not to delve into silly actions during the inevitable rush of adrenaline one experienced while being surrounded by fellow researchers and the greatest members of the academic community… and yet Genji embarrassing himself in front of the dignified elite was the least of his concerns.

He couldn’t pretend to ignore the gossip which lurked around their friendship from time to time. On the one hand people talked, their imagination wandered and thus prejudices and presumptions were born even though Zenyatta had more than once quieted these voices down. His relationship with Genji was strictly platonic and professional, based on a decade long trust and loyalty…

On the other hand however, there had been whispers of Genji doing questionable things during the nights of conferences, abroad and away from Zenyatta’s tranquil presence. Him leaving dinner parties with young, intelligent minds to take their discussions up to hotel rooms.

No, Zenyatta shook his head with a disapproving frown and placed the milk back to the shelf, closing the fridge door with his other hand. If Genji would enter an intimate relationship with someone, he’d tell Zenyatta, in fact he wouldn’t be able to keep his mouth from running all day about it. If Genji would find someone worthy enough of his attention, Zenyatta would be the first person to know. It was disgraceful and unworthy as a friend for Zenyatta to even assume that Genji, sweet, genuine and brilliant Genji, would go ahead and sleep around while attending academic committees and PhD hearings, publication evaluation sessions, international round-table discussions…

“Stop it,” he frowned harder, pulling a sharp stop at his own thoughts. “It’s unworthy of you. Of all people.”

His heart trilled in a timid, jittery melody as the dull tightness and ache returned to his chest, encompassing his lungs and throat, amplifying his hammering heartbeat.

For every time Genji smiled at him, a smile he’d only reserved for Zenyatta to see and receive with sunny joy, the man saw nothing but open benevolence and faith in his friend’s eyes.

“I will not believe a word of such heinous lies.”

. . .

 

Tuesday brought a now pink cheeked and runny nosed Genji. He’d kept his habit and brought the usual chai latte to his friend but with the weather turning cold and sour his heelys were gone and instead of his sunny and ever-so bright demeanor, he brought the fatigue and dullness of flu settling in.

Upon noticing his approach Zenyatta stood in an instant and took the small tray and paper bag from his hands, and after depositing them on his desk he turned to see Genji up close. Whether it just a cold or the flu, he needed to know.

“Just dropping in, thought you needed the tea and yesterday I forgot to give the…” the man wore a white face mask to cover his nose and mouth -- of course he would, old habits die hard, Zenyatta thought. “The… “

Genji pulled the door closed and seemed to stop short for a moment, eyes taking in Zenyatta’s appearance as if it was the first time he’d see his friend in a finely knit dirty-white woolen sweater matched with jeans and black waterproof hiking boots. To break the awkward tension with a sharp indicative move of his finger at the chair, Zenyatta reached to pluck the mask off Genji’s face to see the situation for himself. “Let me see you, did you catch something bad or is it just a cold?”

“ _How should I know, I can barely breathe,”_ upon sitting, the younger man already had an irritated frown settling on his forehead and indeed he opened his lips for another intake of air. The use of Japanese was however a surprise to the literature teacher; Genji used that only in private. _“Can you give me a lift home, please? I really don’t feel like riding my bike for half an hour in this godawful weather. Wind is a bitch today, up the fucking hill and ugh…”_

 _“Hey now, no need to blame nature for your sickness. I’ll finish the tea quick and we’ll be home in no time.”_ The Nepalese man placed an entire package of tissues on the desk and took his tea into his hands. The much needed warmth spread quickly in his cold fingers and with a tender smile he breathed in the heavenly aroma of cinnamon. _“Thank you very much for bringing the tea, Genji.”_

 _“It’s nothing... I mean, sure thing. Would never miss tea-time with you.”_ He sniffed _. “Dammit! I can’t get sick!”_ With the quickness of a viper Genji retrieved his mask and hid his reddening nose behind it again before he turned to the side to blow into a tissue. _“I can’t, this is the worst timing ever.”_

_“Hold on, did you have fever during the night?”_

_“Nah, but I feel like I’m getting one now. Thank the gods I have no lectures in the afternoon… and there is still time to cancel the Thursday lesson or… “_

_“We’ll get you back up on your feet, have some faith.”_

Genji wrapped his arms around himself, shivering from his time outside in the coldest of rainstorms which was currently raging outside the building. With a pang of guilt Zenyatta realised that Genji had just crossed that traitor of a bridge in such awful weather already twice that day (for the bridge was the worst and did not shield from the harsh cold wind at all), and he had been out in that storm for more than enough time with the temperature plummeting almost hourly.

 _“This is my fault, I should have brought tea to you, Genji,”_ he tried to drink the remainder of his tea but ended up wheezing after a few large gulps. _“My sincere apologies, you shouldn’t have spent a minute in that weather outside.”_

_“Come on, I won’t die. It’s just a cold. Just don’t come close. I don’t want you to get sick too.”_

Zenyatta’d had enough; he drank the last of his tea, typed a quick text to Mei about cancelling their meeting in the library tomorrow afternoon and stood to get his coat. Dismissing Genji’s previous comment altogether he’d placed his deep red beanie on the engineer’s head and pulled the man’s scarf up to fix it, refusing to let it hang around so loose.

_“Seriously, no wonder you get sick if you never tie your scarf, and where is your hat? I’ll get it tomorrow from your office if you left it there… Okay, we’ll go to your place first and if you need more medicine I’ll go get it.”_

_“Zen-ya, it’s just a cold, no need to fuss…”_

_“It is no trouble, Genji. However, you could’ve just called me and I’d have brought tea and coffee to your office instead. Now you’re just going to be sick.”_

_“I will make it up to you, I didn’t mean to be trouble.”_

The slow, measured turn of Zenyatta’s head and the coldest look Genji had ever seen was enough to break that manly pride of his.

_“Okay, you win, let’s do it your way.”_

. . .

 

Two hours later with Genji bundled up under two layers of blankets and flu medicine slowly starting to take effect, he’d clapped his hands together in a pleading gesture, head hanging low while Zenyatta refused to bend to his will and kept his stance. “No.” They had now slipped easily into constant Japanese, with Genji finding the use of his native tongue comforting and Zenyatta eager to comply for practice.

Genji puffed in exasperation, his breathing was still similar to wheezing due to his nose running so badly, chest rising and falling fast under the blankets and a white long-sleeved bio-cotton pajama shirt.

 _“_ Please, please, please! I’m so late with my deadlines already. I can’t be sick!”

“You’ll be inclined to recover quickly to your best abilities.”

“Zenyatta, where is your empathy? Is that how you treat me when I’m weak and down with fever?”

“I am being empathic, I’ll let you play with your toy robots.”

“But _you are not playing with me!_ ”

“Point is, I’m letting you lounge until your fever goes down.”

“ _Lounging? What?”_ With the flu settling in his system, Genji grew more irritable and as Zenyatta had already gotten used to it, he’d just become immune to his friend’s nagging. “I’m sick, see, I’ve taken medicine, I took a hot shower as you ordered, I’m in the bed and, and…  I’m even wearing the woolen socks too!”

“Such nice behavior must indeed be rewarded,” was the calmest and sweetest reply to Genji’s sensitive ears. His sleepy eyes looked drowsily at Zenyatta and he reached for the man’s sleeve only to thumb at the fabric by his friend’s wrist.

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about. Shower me with treats and kindness, don’t I deserve it?” He crooned, voice deep yet the smoothest rasp of Japanese, “I’ve been working really hard throughout the year and you know it!”

“I shall make cocoa with honey for you.”

“Oh darling, that’s the way to my heart,” Genji purred almost instantly, in the best charmer voice he could muster in this state and yet, Zenyatta felt his heart skip a beat and flutter in his chest. With flustered heat spreading in his soul and coloring his cheeks way too quick he needed to stand and leave Genji’s spacious and cozy bedroom as soon as he could.

The reminder only reached him a moment later and he caught the door frame to hang back, balancing on his heel for a split second, “did you take your lactose medication?”

Genji flashed him a smile and proudly raised his thumb, “yup!”

Oh, how could Zenyatta resist giving him the smile he deserved? In such precious moments like these he’d allowed the true light of his feelings shine through his eyes and beam through his smiles. He loved this dork of a man, he loved him so fiercely his entire being lit up in balmy pleasure just by being around him. _Oh, Genji._

His hands moved by familiar instinct in Genji’s kitchen to find the ingredients in order to make the most delicious cocoa Zenyatta had ever prepared for his beloved. Cinnamon, honey and just the tiniest hint of ginger mixed with the Dutch cocoa this time, and the Nepalese man smiled in contentment all the while the milk was warming in the microwave.

Despite the heating working efficiently in his love’s apartment, Zenyatta couldn’t help but feel a diminutive tremble rake its way up his spine; his fingers pulled the sweater’s sleeve inside his palm to cover his hands in the fabric.This was the way of things, his arms reassuringly wrapping around his lithe form to keep the miniscule warmth he could save and endure what was bound to happen.

By the time he’d be back by Genji’s side the engineer would be half-asleep and he’d reach for Zenyatta’s smaller hand to hold it while he drank the warm treat. His thumb would gently play and caress with the other’s hand and fingers while Zenyatta would do his best to remain unmoving, mentally clutching his own heart in a tight grip to keep it from shattering apart. Genji’s heavy, half lidded eyes would sink until with a content smile he would ask Zenyatta to stay around, he didn’t like being alone when he was sick. The offer, if made in other circumstances Zenyatta wouldn’t be able to turn down. It nearly broke his heart to do so, leaving Genji behind in sickness but...

With the slightest tremble he’d wiped the wetness around his eyes. He could do this. Time and time again, he repeated solemnly in his mind. Genji was an adult man, capable of taking care of himself and it was only the medication and sickness talking. To assume anything more would be the fault of him being the more loving one*.

To be sure, he placed the required medication on the counter for the morning, and refilled the kettle with water.

He would return to meditation and embrace the benevolence of solitude once he got home, to calm his aching heart and soul, both threatening to spill secrets he wasn’t ready for Genji to know.

For now, he mixed the milk with the sweet, spicy combination and braced his fluttering heart before walking back to the man he loved, holding the warm mug of cocoa in his hands.

This bittersweet existence, he wouldn’t have it any other way unless it was with Genji.

 

 _Never seek to tell thy love,_   
_Love that never told can be;_   
_For the gentle wind doth move_ _  
_  Silently, invisibly.

William Blake - Never Seek To Tell Thy Love

*: W. H. Auden, _The More Loving One_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for reading, please let me know what you think! :)


	4. The Frozen Rail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teaching 101: Getting Outside Your Comfort Zone For Your Best Friend's Happiness: an empirical and qualitative analysis by Zenyatta Tekhartha, proofread by resident robotics engineer ninja Genji Shimada.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, eternal thanks to Ruriska for her brilliant beta skills! I'd also like to thank everyone who read and commented, your feedback is invaluable, thank you so much! Kinda-long post ahead!

 

The ringtone blaring was like the crash of thunder in his ears.

Zenyatta sat up in his bed in a rush and reached to the drawer, his mind barely registering the name and time before answering, “yes, what is it?”

“ _Morning_ …” Genji’s sleepy, coarse voice replied, tugging sharply at Zenyatta’s consciousness. He was awake in an instant even though it was way too early for correct Japanese.

“ _How you are feeling, Genji? Do you need something_?”

“ _I feel awful, Zen, I can’t go to teach like this, I doubt I could even get to the building in this state_.”

The decision was made without Zenyatta giving it any extra thought, “ _I’m there, half an hour_.”

“ _Half an hour…? How…?_ ”

“ _Leave that to me_ ,” he was already getting out of the bed, reaching for his dark jeans he’d left on the nearby chair last night.

" _Ah, are you cranky? Ah shit I just woke you up didn’t I? Damn it I’m sorry_.” His voice echoed from the other side of the line and that gave his position away; now Zenyatta was frowning at the man without him seeing. For a moment he switched the loudspeaker on so he could properly dress up.

“ _No problem, just get back into bed. You know what, it will take one hour, I’ll go to the hospital’s pharmacy, get you more medicines.”_

 _“No, I already took another for the fever and more paracetamol.”_ From the other end of the line, Zenyatta heard the familiar whoosh of a refrigerator door.

_“That won’t get you back on your feet, I’ll get you the warm drink stuff.”_

_“Just come here yourself, that’ll be more than enough.”_

“ _Get back into bed. I can hear you’re in the kitchen,” he sighed in exasperation_

_“Yes, yes, I’m going now. Let yourself in when you’re here.”_

Zenyatta hung up with a short and annoyed goodbye, pocketing his phone in an instant. Worry was churning in his chest like a ticking bomb waiting for the right moment to explode, boiling all the way into frustration. He barely remembered taking his messenger bag along, his mind noting that he had a lecture to teach from ten, _Introduction to Oriental Studies_ for undergrads.

His mind finally seemed to quiet when he began to drive and stopped by at the hospital; upon explaining the situation to the blonde and utterly charming pharmacist the situation didn’t seem so dire anymore. She’d calmed him quickly by giving him one single box of pills, saying with a gentle smile, “this will get your friend healed in no time”, and Zenyatta believed her.

“I’m here!” He announced in Japanese by instinct, twenty minutes later as he closed the door behind himself and peeled his shoes off by stepping on their heels. “Stay in bed, I’ll be there.”

“Are you still mad at me?” A meek voice called from the bedroom, probably half-way hiding under the blankets, judging by how muffled it sounded.

Zenyatta took a steadying breath with the mightiest eye-roll one had ever mastered. It was a shame Genji didn’t get to see it.

“No, I was never mad at you.”

“Yes, you were because I woke you up.” Yes, he was surely covering half his face with the blankets.

“I’m worried. There is a difference.” When passing by the kitchen the Nepali man gave a disapproving shake of his head at the sight on the counter; apparently Genji had made himself tea and taken his medicine but there were no signs of dirty dishes so he’d had neither dinner or breakfast. “Seriously Genji, you need to eat.”

“I’m not hungry, I can’t even think about food now. Come here already!”

“One moment.” He placed one small cup of water in the microwave and opened a packet of medicine.

“Too long!” He heard the shuffling noise of linens from the bedroom.

“Stay in there, I’m making a warm drink medicine for you.”

The sound Genji suddenly produced made Zenyatta release a throaty, deep laugh; it sounded as if his love had been stomped on by an elephant, “Hana just said she can’t jump in to help on Thursday, she goes to Lúcio’s PhD hearing in Stockholm?! I can’t cancel the class on Thursday, we can’t be late with that group! Damn!”

The microwave pinged and Zenyatta took the cup, mixing the medicine powder into the now hot water. He turned to walk into the darkened bedroom where Genji was lying in bed, looking exactly how Zenyatta expected him to look. Terrible.

“Everything will be alright, don’t worry about such things right now. Drink this.”

“Satya is out of town and arrives back too late, Hana can’t help, Morrison-san and Torbjörn-san have class that time, Reyes is still on holiday… damn it!”

Genji ran his fingers through his hair in a troubled gesture, lips hanging slightly open from exasperation. His chest rose and sank quickly as the tension gradually grew in his body but when Zenyatta finally sat down by his side, he visibly relaxed.

“Zenny, I can’t cancel that class.”

“So you’ve told me.”

Oh no. The sudden way Genji mischievously eyed his friend gave his thoughts away in an instant, Zenyatta already raising his palms in the gentlest refusal he could think of, “Genji I’m a literature teacher!”

The man clapped his palms together in a pleading gesture with his head hung low, blankets slipping off his chest to pool in his lap, “Zenyatta, take my notes and open the slides for the group, please! I wouldn’t ask you if there was another way! All you have to do is just open the slides from my drive and I promise I’ll make my notes understandable for you!”

“I don’t…”

“Zenya, even if I send the presentation for them to open it by themselves they wouldn’t understand it without the notes! So far we had to slow down because the text in the book Morrison assigned us is too dense for them to handle! Please, help them understand what is going on in the book! Most of the time they have trouble understanding the text not the formulas! You wouldn’t need to explain any counting I promise, I can do that next week! Just please cover the theory with them, they are so smart and work so well in their groups, please!”

Genji glanced up for a moment and already saw his friend’s gaze softening in defeat behind the carefully built-up wall even though Zenyatta’s posture did not give anything away; hands still holding the cup of warm drink to cool in his lap, facing him only half-way and his head even tilted to side in contemplation.

The Japanese man sighed dramatically; already knowing he had won.

“This group is my favourite this semester, cancelling the class would be like betraying them. They wait for this class, I have courses with several of them earlier the week and they smile, chat with me and tell me they’re waiting for the Feedback Control Systems class… I can’t leave them! Please!”

“You’ll make it up to me,” Zenyatta stated.

“Yes! Anything!”

“If I catch you without your scarf neatly tied, without your beanie or gloves, I’m allowed to kick you,” Zenyatta’s voice lowered in mock threat

“Yes! In front of everyone too!” Genji promised.

“Of course in front of everyone. You think I’d drag you into a closet first? Oh, and you’ll bring me croissants until the end of the semester.”

“Yes, I will!”

“You deserve this all.”

“I deserve this.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“I am an idiot.”

Zenyatta laughed and swatted his love’s pleading hands away lightly. When their eyes met Genji was smiling meekly at him with contentment and mirroring the warmth in his own eyes. Upon noticing the tiny nudge at his sleeve again Zenyatta placed the warm cup aside to the bedside table with a sigh which almost said ‘very well’, and gave in to the silent plea. Genji moved immediately, shifting closer and wrapping his strong, warm arms around Zenyatta’s middle to pull him in as he rested his head on his shoulder, heated forehead scalding the other man’s skin while his friend’s arms enveloped his shoulders into a gentle, soothing embrace.

His breathing relaxed in an instant and yet a balmy, kindling and pleasant feeling bloomed in his chest while inhaling Zenyatta’s familiar scent of sandalwood and feeling the gentle stroke of fingers on his scalp. Genji wouldn’t have minded for time to stop right then, just for their sake.

“The things I do for you.” Zenyatta sighed.

“Thank you for being here for me.”

Zenyatta sighed again, this time with an emotion Genji could not name.

“Where else would I be?”

…

The fact that Genji kept his word and simplified, extended and re-organized his notes for him did help his growing anxiety… but the fact that his friend talked so much about him to the students that they were anticipating his arrival… that was most unnerving. What was he running his mouth about?

Now not only did he have to teach a class in a field of study he only had heard about the last decade, the recipients had expectations he had to live up to! It was not like he hadn’t dropped in before to substitute at any other course in his life but--

There was no time even for a calming mantra…!

His phone beeped in his pocket and he pulled it forth with the most passive-aggressive sigh he had in his repertoire. “Now you’re not freezing again, are you?” He muttered at it.

11.57 am. Genji: “chill out theyll love u :3”

“The things I do for your stupid pretty face!” He lamented back to the screen. Oh, gods, he needed some tea.

. . .

This building was way too white and immaculate, Zenyatta didn’t like it and yet here he stood in front of the room. He took a deep breath and pushed the door open. Just by his appearance he was a stark opposite of the majority of the people present, dressed in his comfortable dark gold woollen jumper with a neatly tucked in necktie under the white dress shirt’s collar, black jeans and the worn waterproof hiking boots. As he looked around, most of the students were still in their white robes from lab sessions or wearing smart, business-code clothing despite the cozy familiarity they seemed to share amongst each other. The pleasant murmur of the class was finally an environment Zenyatta felt anchored in.

Too soon however, all eyes gradually turned and he felt them rake their gazes all over him; the way he held his folded parka coat over an arm with the hand holding his messenger bag, the other hand pulling the chair out from under the instructor’s desk. His chest began to heat up in a quite unpleasant way and his lips pursed at the unwelcome feeling; he had to tighten his throat and feign a swallow upon standing up straight again and looking over the seminarium room.

In a large room with six tables, twenty-three future engineers looked back at him, excited anticipation glistening in their eyes. They had even made name-tags… just because they knew he was coming.

With a tentative tilt of his head and his fingers intertwining in a contemplative gesture, Zenyatta took a deep breath and just for a few seconds (until all students’ attention was finally focused on him) grounded himself in preparation for the following two hours.

 _In the hours of doubt and fear, never forget your path, purpose and faith in the flow of the universe_ , his brother’s words reminded him. _Breathe._

Indeed. These bright, young minds were ready to listen and learn, trust his guidance and see the lecture through with him; Genji had already informed them of his arrival. If Zenyatta could do one thing right, that was teaching.

The silence surrounding the room wasn’t as cold or foreign as he’d imagined it to be. The people were waiting, all expectant and curious eyes glued on him.

“Greetings,” he lifted a hand in synchrony with his voice and to his pleasant surprise, many students replied in fashion. “My name is Zenyatta Tekhartha from the Department of Humanities where I teach postcolonial and Oriental literature as you might already know. I’m here as a substitute until Mr. Shimada recovers.”

There was a hand in the air already and he nodded with a small smile.

“In the email he wrote he is sick. Is he feeling better?” It was a worried student by the name Agnes; Zenyatta’s chest slightly warmed at the sight of a brunette with fashionable, large glasses asking about his friend’s well being.

“I’m afraid he is not, for that is why I am here with you for today’s lesson. Hopefully by next week he will be back,” he replied, as his body’s heat finally began to return to his icy cold fingertips.

Another hand rose and received audition, “In the email Mr. Shimada wrote he’s going to put the slides in the drive we use for this class, will he also put the notes there?”

The thought of Genji sharing his notes with anyone at all pulled a doubtful frown onto Zenyatta’s features; “I’m afraid you’ll have to ask him about that. I’m only here for this one lesson and it is probably the best if I tell you something right in the beginning,” he paused and ran his eyes across the room, catching and holding the students’ curiosity, “as shocking as it sounds, I know even less about this topic than you do.”

Some laughed, some smiled and a few were giving quick nods in acknowledgement.

“As a matter of fact, since Genji has told me you had to read the next chapter for today,” he hummed and took a step back, pulled his right hand behind his waist to support his waist in a horizontal line while he tapped his lips with his left index finger. “I was wondering if we could share the workload and hold an extraordinary class today.”

That captured their interest the way he wished; friends shared looks, mischief or doubt in their eyes; it did not matter right now.

“I was wondering if I would put the slides up to the big screen in case someone needed it and we would divide the class into... “ he tilted his head and made a quick count. “Five groups. How long is the chapter in the textbook?”

“Forty-five pages, Mr. Tekhartha,” replied a young man from the back rows after a quick check in his paper copy. Thomas, his haphazardly scribbled name tag read.

“That means, if we divide it by five, every group gets nine pages and will have one hour to make sense of those nine pages with the help of Genji’s PPT. Here comes the exciting part,” he couldn’t resist holding an index finger up, and he could already tell they were interested. “One member from each group should have a tablet or laptop, which I see that most of you already do; so the next would be: choose a secretary who will take notes.” The realization had already dawned on a few of them, smiles and relief washing over them. They were familiar with this form of group work.

“Are we doing a reading circle?” A girl asked and Zenyatta nodded.

“Indeed we are. One secretary takes notes of your discoveries, the way you made sense of the chapter. In the end of the lecture, the last half an hour, we are going to put the pieces together and looking at you, I’m more than certain we’ll have no trouble understanding what this is about.” He paused and gave them a shoo’ing motion with the wave of his hand. “Please go ahead and choose your group names and don’t forget to upload your notes by the group’s codename in the shared drive so Genji can later see your work!”

“This sounds… so… humane,” another man spoke up, eyes full of pleasant disbelief darting to Zenyatta who held his palms together in front of his waistline by now. “Like… wow.”

“Group name, group name…” a friend of his laughed, “Dihydrogen-monoxide sharks.”

“Awesome.”

“Reading circle on engineering course, that’s like.. Ah, I didn’t know I needed this in my life.”

“Mr. Tekhartha, will you also join us? You have Mr. Shimada’s notes!”

His heart beat with newly found warmth and pleasure at the invitation.

“Of course, I’ll try to be helpful as best I can.”

“Can we choose the group name ‘Existential Dynamo Crisis’?”

Now Zenyatta completely understood why Genji was fond of this class; he couldn’t resist rewarding the question with a soft laugh hidden behind his palm; “I don’t see why not! Let me grab a chair and I’ll be right there with you.”

. . .

As he’d expected, the end of the lecture did turn into a giant debate about the textbook’s awful syntax and way too complex vocabulary, which he could only tone down in the last five minutes with the promise of finishing the class earlier.

For that goal the entire class teamed up immediately and with a few exceptions only, they stayed to chat with him in the remaining couple of minutes. To say the least, he was not prepared for their enthusiastic curiosity of his and Genji’s life.

“How do you manage to meet up all the time, you both must be so busy?”

“We… we text a lot and arrange it, I think..? His building is close to mine after all.”

“Did he ever go substitute on your lessons?”

“Once, yes…” and ended up having nightmares after Joseph Conrad’s ‘ _Heart of Darkness_ ’ analysis… Zenyatta still hadn’t forgiven to those students for terrorizing his engineer friend with the imagery and metaphor systems. He was also traumatized by the movie clips from _Apocalypse Now_ , that the students made him watch at the end of the lecture.

“And what do you _exactly_ teach, Mr. Tekhartha?” His eyes glanced at the very tall girl with a sharp look, without the name tag her name suddenly evaded his memory.

“Postcolonial literature and Oriental Studies… as I already told you.”

“But what do you… teach there _exactly_?” Her gaze narrowed suspiciously.

He was startled by the question and yet as his eyes quickly scanned the students surrounding him, to them this seemed an entirely natural thing to ask. Oh, her name was Angelique, she spoke again once it became apparent that he didn’t know how to answer.

“I mean, you explained us stability functions for the basic non-linear systems so don’t tell us you’re only teaching literature.”

_Oh._

“I guess that happens if one spends too much time with one Mr. Shimada…” he replied with a light chuckle which did not last long as the majority of the students reactions perplexed him once again; they sighed with a long ‘oh’ and thoughtful nods, glanced at one another in acknowledgement, some even raised peculiar eyebrows while nodding in newfound wisdom.

What did just…?

“It would be lovely to have you teaching us in the future too, Mr. Tekhartha,” one young man announced and the rest of the group nodded in unison.

“Agreed, Mr. Shimada should bring you to every class from now on.”

_Oh no. This was getting out of hand._

“Would you please come for the last class in December? It’d be so great!”

The suggestion from Ms. Marie unleashed hell.

“Come for the Christmas party!”

“We’ll have faculty Secret Santa too! You can join with Mr. Shimada if you want!”

_No, no that’s…_

“Could you please convince Mr. Shimada to come to a LAN-party with us on Fridays? We mostly just play COD and CS but he never comes! It’d be awesome if you’d come too!”

“Mr. Tekhartha we have potluck party next Tuesday! Everyone makes something from their country’s cuisine but you are welcome without any food too!”

It took all Zenyatta’s courage and strength to put a stop to the student’s quite persuasive tactic of overwhelming one lonely scholar with questions. He held a palm up as if to sign his defeat and quickly apologised for his terrible manners but he had to return to his own department before his next lesson started.

The disappointed moans and laments did hurt his conscience, he cast a last glance at the students already missing him before leaving the entire building at a quick pace. He wouldn’t call it jogging just yet but it was close to that. What had just happened? Had they swarmed him because they thought he and Genji were…

He didn’t get too far, hadn’t even reached his own building. The realization caused him to stop short in his tracks and hold onto the stupid bridge’s ice cold, frozen railing. No, no, no! His mind went into overdrive in an instant, eyes squeezed shut.

Wasn’t it enough that half of his own department assumed he and Genji were involved in a relationship?! Some people from Genji’s department took the presumption for granted and now an entire class of students….?! This was a disaster!

His mind couldn’t take it. It lost the ability to produce English.

“ _What have I done?!”_

He hid his furiously red cheeks behind gloved palms which were icy after gripping the metal railing for too long. Now they would go and talk! People talk! It would spread! Again!!

“ _Oh I ruined it all! What have I done? Why does this keep happening? Oh gods help me!”_

He gripped the railing again, above the frozen lake, with both hands, staring mid-air at the pretty image of a Finnish town lying ahead. His lungs demanded oxygen yet his throat and chest were so tight he couldn’t decide what to do; start wheezing or hold his breath back.

“ _Aah, I ruined it all, I ruined it! It’s all my fault, oh gods, please destroy this bridge and make me drown right now! I can’t take this anymore!”_

 _“Zenyatta? Zenyatta! Is everything alright?”_ The voice hardly reached him through his panic.

 _“No nothing is alright!”_ He grabbed and yanked at the metallic railing even if it remained solid and unmoving, “ _Nothing, now they think that I and Genji... everyone thinks, oh this is the worst, I am the worst friend! He trusted me!”_

_“Please stop yelling, please! You are very loud, people are staring!”_

His heaving chest, the icy air and Satya immaculately dressed in a pure white pea coat called him back to reality. Eyes wide, pulse high and mind racing, Zenyatta realized that the poor lady was attempting to help him but didn’t even dare touch his shoulder as her hand lingered above his coat by just a few inches. Did he just lose his mind on the middle of the bridge… on campus?

And… of course she would speak Nepalese. She was compassionate.

“ _I’m terribly sorry, Satya.”_

_“Don’t you apologise! Please take a few deep breaths, it’s alright!”_

He obeyed, even closing his eyes during the process and Satya pulled her hand back as she saw him gradually come back to his senses. Her calculating gaze swept over him in a quick glance and with the smallest disapproving quirk on her lips she motioned at the IT building with her head.

“ _Come with me. Let’s go to the office.”_

The mere thought of returning to the IT building washed another wave of dread and shame over him, in utter desperation Zenyatta grabbed the metal railing again and collapsed on it.

_“I can’t show my face in that building ever again!”_

“ _Don’t be ridiculous, whatever is wrong with you?”_ She asked, perplexed.

_“Satya I just ruined a decade long friendship and my own reputation, leave me to jump into my welcoming death in peace! I could finally start over!”_

_“Don’t even dream of it!”_

_“Can’t I retain a semblance of dignity?”_

The top-tier programmer, engineer and lecturer of the Mechanical Engineering department sighed. The sigh, which spoke of utter disappointment and served as a way to say, “ _this is just really unworthy of you.”_

 _“You don’t understand, Satya,”_ he began in a tide, _“Everyone talks about us in my faculty, his faculty, I know you people think we have been having a relationship and every time I tell them we do not, I see no one believes me. They think I’m just dodging for saving face but truth is, our relationship is truly, in honest, simply platonic. I… I’ve…”_

_“I know.”_

Her calm, soft tone was as soothing as it was shocking.

“ _I know, Zenyatta. I believe you. I also know that you love him, but he does not return the sentiments the way he should.”_

 _“Wait…”_ His heart skipped, causing him to involuntarily wince at the pain and dart his alarmed eyes at Satya. “ _What?”_

_“People talk, that’s what they always do. Come, let’s have a drink and chat in the office. I have water and biscuits from New Delhi.”_

_“I can’t, I have a lesson in ten minutes…”_

_“Marvellous time to pick for a breakdown, is it not? Are you done? You can still make it to your class.”_

With a pang which was more like a sharp tug back to reality, he realised she wasn’t being sarcastic. And she was right.

“ _True. Thank you, Satya, I needed that.”_

 _“Anytime, happy to help,”_ she gave him a reassuring smile and it did help Zenyatta anchor his fluttering heart. He might have overreacted. Just a bit. _“Now it’s probably best if you go, we will continue this some other time. Good day to you, Zenyatta!”_

“ _Thank you again, Satya! See you!”_ His steps carried him with the tremble of uncertainty, his mind still reeling with all that had just happened.

Satya’s crystal clear words echoed in sharp contrast with his turmoil.

. . .

His phone beeped and buzzed just when he left the classroom. This time it consisted of a few lines of hiraganas and kanjis.

16.48 Genji: “ _sorry, fell asleep. How did it go? Tell me they were playing nice or they’re dead to me._ ┌(▀Ĺ̯ ▀-͠ )┐ _”_

For a moment or two, Zenyatta simply stared mid-air in front of himself and stepped aside to the wall when a student passed by. How should he answer? In what manner? Or should he tell Genji in person? He tapped the screen to type his answer.

Oh.

His eyes narrowed in rage at the utterly outrageous move his phone was pulling right now.

It froze.

. . .

Genji answered the call in a beat, voice significantly sounding better even on the line, “Zenny, you coming over?”

“I’m packing right now and I’ll be there in half an hour, really this time. Sorry for answering so late, my phone froze on me again and I dropped it.”

He averted his eyes in shame even though Genji could not see him. Few moments passed in silence, before Genji deadpanned.

“You _dropped_ it.”

“I did.”

He heard a snort through the device and the noises of Genji pressing violent laughter back, probably pressing a hand into his mouth. Zenyatta chose to stare emptily through the windows of his office; at the tranquil sight of the lake and its other shore with the pine forest, asking for patience from the gods and spirits.

“This is funny to you?”

Now the mighty engineer practically squealed on the other side, ending the sound with the bark of full-bodied laughter.

“Genji!”

“ _Dropped it!”_ He echoed before laughter overtook him again. “You know it doesn’t help with the freezing problem?”

“It slipped!”

“ _Of course!_ ”

“I swear I’ll hit you!”

It took quite a few seconds and sighs for his friend to come down from his high, Zenyatta could see the mental image of him reflexively wiping at his eyes.

“Zenyatta, you wouldn’t hit me if you’d get paid for it. Now get over here, I’m feeling much better I’ll make scrambled eggs for you.”

“What a charmer.”

Genji tsk’d into the phone, “not if you’re grumpy.”

“You make me wonder, why do you still try to flash your missing skills at culinary arts at me?”

“So you _are_ grumpy. Fine, no food for you. Ring me when you’re at the door so I’ll put some pants on.”

And here Zenyatta stood in the middle of the Faculty of Humanities, on the phone with his best friend and the love of his life, who had called him up without wearing the most basic layer of clothing. His day and his patience were crawling towards their end rapidly. Why would Genji even announce that on the phone? Zenyatta didn’t need to know that.

He just stared out on the window once more, expression void of all emotions except exhaustion. Gods help him. Zenyatta gave a slow, disapproving and fatigued shake of his head at the nothing right in front of him, reflecting the growing numbness in his mind.

He simply hung up on the man, pocketed his phone and fixed his tie under the white collars.

. . .

The pleasant smell of scrambled eggs and bacon lingered in the entrance by the time Zenyatta arrived and just to mess with his friend, he didn’t ring at the door to signal his arrival. He fished the keys out and entered to a strangely quiet and dark flat -- the darkness was surprising since even though it was indeed dark outside, Genji usually had the lights on in the evenings, like any other normal person would. But then again, he was Genji. After toeing his boots off and slipping the woollen socks on, Zenyatta turned and…

His eyes stared at the knee-high, scrap metal based and nail polish painted red robot, in the middle of the small space leading to Genji’s kitchen.

It even held its arms up as if to challenge him. Made of disassembled helicopter, tank and rally car toy model parts Genji collected just for the sole purpose of… these things.

He hadn’t met this robot friend before.

“Greetings,” he said to the machine in Japanese and repressed a shuddering urge to laugh when it waved back at him by a remote control most certainly held by his best friend. “May I ask, where is your maker?”

Zenyatta flipped the lights on as the robot turned on its unsteady heels with a bit of shifting and zigzagging of its feet and began walking with the rhythmic raise of its arms in the bedroom’s direction. He knew Genji spent a ridiculous amount of time tinkering with these little creations, countless hours going by until he finally would call one ‘done’, only to return to it for ‘upgrades’ a few days later.

Two years ago Genji made one specially for Zenyatta as a Christmas present, painted it gold, white and blue and named it Bastion. He kept it as the loyal keeper of his domain on the top of a bookshelf with a good vantage point at the entrance door.

Right now however, the knee-high construction marched towards the bedroom and just out of sheer respect for its creator’s genius, Zenyatta kept its pace. He also glanced aside as they bypassed the kitchen and his eyes caught the sight of an untouched plate of scrambled eggs and bacon decorated by toast bread slices. An unwashed plate was in the sink with two cups.

Happiness spread in his chest like a web, encompassing all his limbs from the core.

“Genji?” He called. The tiny robot in the doorway of the bedroom stopped. “Thank you for the food.”

The red machine raised a hand, bent its elbow towards its head, straightened it and pulled it down, as if it’d be tipping an invisible hat. Zenyatta tilted his head and noticed the signs “Red Fury” painted with black nail polish on its chestplate.

He couldn’t take this game anymore, bypassing the robot he walked in the bedroom and flipped the lights on to reveal his friend sitting in lotus on his bed grinning like the sun and holding the remote control in his hand. Genji was fully clothed, wore his most casual black sweatpants and a simple white V-necked long sleeved shirt and yet still managed to look dashing. Another remote laid right beside him on the evenly arranged bed covers (as if he hadn’t spent the entire day in there) and a blue robot, currently offline.

“So?” Genji crooned and put the remote control down before he braced his hands on his ankles until Zenyatta dropped the messenger bag and took his coat off. With a simple throw he deposited it on the far side of the queen sized bed and made a mental note that Genji’d aired the room before his arrival.  

He liked Genji’s bedroom for how spacious and organized it was despite its owner’s habit of leaving havoc in the rest of the apartment. The bed was in the centre, facing a flat screen TV on the wall (they spent two hours setting up because it had to be _perfectly_ horizontal), two white drawers underneath it. Facing Zenyatta on the other side of the room were two tall wardrobes with a large window in between them with the black shutters currently pulled down ( _ninja style,_ Genji would say).

“So,” Zenyatta replied in fashion as he made himself comfortable on the bed, folding his fingers in his lap as he arranged his legs in lotus as well.

Genji tipped his head, nose still a bit red but at least the energetic, mischievous spark had returned to his eyes. “How did it go? You didn’t tell me.”

_Oh._

“They were lovely,” he pursed his lips and glanced away, even if he knew the reaction gave him away immediately; Genji knew him for a decade and could read his tells like a flowing river. “In fact, they were absolutely charming. Cooperating and enthusiastic, as you promised.”

His friend leaned back on his arms with an almost nostalgic, satisfied smirk. “They are a good team.”

“They read the chapter you assigned and since I used the groups to have a reading circle-kind of-setting, they made sense of it quickly. We covered the theory as you asked.”

Genji gave him a friendly bump into his right shoulder with a loosely held fist. “See, that’s why I keep telling you, you’re awesome! You believe me now? You just nailed a mechanical engineering class with students you’ve never met before! How cool is that?”

Now he was just flattering him, the sneaky… “come on, it’s not like you couldn’t ask Hana to do the same…”

“But Hana _studies_ this shit and you don’t! You never had! You got my notes two days ago and became an expert!”

“Now, let’s not go into extremes there, I just helped them make sense of the textbook, we mostly nitpicked at the vocabulary and syntax until they understood what was…”

Genji wiped his face exasperatedly before pushing Zenyatta away without spite.

“Remember when I substituted you once for that Postcolonialism class and suffered PTSD afterwards? Your humanist monsters played me on and we spent the last ten minutes watching movie clips from _Apocalypse Now?_ ” He shuddered for effect. “Man, _that’s_ the difference between being able to handle stuff or not. You’re awesome and amazing, period. You deserve all the scrambled eggs and robot fights.”

Zenyatta’s eyes narrowed in suspicion and glanced down from his peripheral sight at the second remote control. Busted.

“Alright, alright,” he picked the slightly scratched remote control into his hands but Genji stopped him by placing a firm hand on his shoulder this time and pulled his attention to himself.

“Zenny, you’re amazing, I mean it. Just accept it, no no, psst! None of that. You’re the best friend, best teacher I’ve ever known. Ssh! Cut the shit. Now, let’s play.”

“Genji-your-students-think-we-are-dating-because-I-am-stupid-I’m-so-sorry!” The words spilled out in a rush.“See, I ruined it!”

It was said in an instant and he immediately hid his face behind his palms in utter defeat.

He expected a few things to happen. Genji to snort, make disgusted noises, call him out like he did at others when he was annoyed, ‘ _ew dude, what’s wrong with you?’_ , getting angry or even disappointed…

He didn’t expect for Genji to stare back at him in absolute, unabashed shock. Speechless.

That was a feat in itself.

The emotions ran through Genji in almost slow-motion; the way laughter bubbled up from deep in his chest, coming to a blast and have him roll flat on his back, clutching at his pillows, his sides and the bedcover. Like he’d been tickle-bombed. His feet dangled off the bed.

“DUDE...”

Zenyatta’s heart fluttered angrily and excitedly at the same time, he didn’t know what to do with his hands or whether to watch Genji or just look away.

“I CAN'T BELIEVE IT...”

Okay, well, it _was_ ridiculous, Zenyatta admitted with an eye-roll and thumbs nervously prodding at the black remote control. Genji was heavily panting from the bursts of laughter, apparently imagining Zenyatta dealing with the situation _and greatly enjoying what he saw._

That’s it. With both hands he grabbed onto Genji’s arm and yanked at the now grinning man who was slumped back against the bed. “Stop it, Genji! Stop that! It was awful!”

Genji’s smile wilted into an almost sorry, still very much amused expression, “come on, it’s the best thing ever.”

“I doubt that.”

The engineer nonchalantly waved at him, still slightly panting from the vehement laughter from before.

“I don’t give a damn, if that helps.”

Zenyatta’s eyebrows shot up in wonder, eyes darting at Genji’s calm gaze, “truly?”

“Y-yup,” he even shrugged for effect, drawing a hand behind his scalp while his lazy, content eyes wandered around his friend’s form. “Look, Reyes is already convinced of that and there is nothing I could say to make him think otherwise, just like Amélie is onto me. But anyway, I really don’t care. Let them think what they want, if that makes them happy.”

Suddenly, the Nepalese man didn’t know how to react to that. Several kinds of emotions swirled inside him without giving him a pause; his mind and heart were unable to come to a decision whether is was good or not, that Genji…

“Stop thinking so hard, you’re giving me a headache.”

“Genji, you realize…”

“You’re taking this way too seriously, Zen. Chill out, people can think whatever they want and besides…” he winked up at him, all smug and just _Genji_ and the literature scholar had a very difficult time not to hit him square in the stomach. “If that helps them sleep at night…”

Now he _did_ pull a nasty punch in the engineer’s tummy, earning him a sputtering, coughing but nevertheless utterly amused friend.

“You’re the worst! I swear! You’re horrible!”

And now it was him who couldn’t stop laughing for an entire minute, hiding his face in shame and undeniable enjoyment at the hilarity of their duo.  

“Wait, did you just hit me? Do you wanna go there, buddy? Show me your worth.”

Zenyatta’s eyes narrowed dangerously and his head turned sharply to look at his friend who still remained lying flat on his back on the bed like the content cat he was inside. The two shared a silent moment of mock tension, both of them calculating and sizing the other in case one of them would strike first. Genji cracked his finger bones as he pulled his right hand back into a very much prepared position, a fist ready to counter or deflect.

An entire minute had passed before Zenyatta’s lips pulled into a soft smirk, “come on, Genji. In your dreams.”

 

_Love is but a dream,_

_they said._

_Yet what more can I yearn for?_

Vivian Chiang - _Love_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... hopefully Zenyatta survives this school-year like he did for a decade before. Oh wait...  
>  I hope you liked this chapter! Let me know what you think here in the comments or on tumblr! Your feedback gives me life


	5. A moment of peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is the end of October after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How do I even begin -- my gratitude goes out to all of you who gave me any sort of feedback, you give me an entirely new level of motivation to write and keep going. If I could, I'd also like to hug every one of you for being so patient and kind with me. As usual, eternal thanks to Ruriska for nitpicking during her beta sessions! Your nitpicking is much appreciated.

The idea struck Genji after a long pause of his reeling thoughts. Surrounded by his notes, drawings and countings on the carpet floor of Zenyatta’s living room, he turned his head to look at his friend who was deeply enraptured by a recent edition of Hafiz. Genji’s eyes lit up in glee.

"Zenyatta, I was thinking," he began.

"Brahma preserve us." the Nepalese man already felt a fatigued sigh threatening to slip out while his eyes continued to run with the flow of words displayed in the book on his lap.

"I have an idea about how we should spend our autumn breaks." Genji turned onto his other side on the carpet and raised his head; much to his chagrin, Zenyatta hadn’t even glanced at him.

"I hesitate to wonder." He just flipped a page in his book.

The engineer’s eyes narrowed in mock hurt as he reached up and flipped his hair out of the way. "When you are done grumping I'll tell you," he muttered.

Zenyatta sighed and let the book drop a few inches onto his lap, his warm chestnut gaze finally landing on Genji. "I'm just bracing myself in advance and before you plan a road trip, I can't go, I have six thesis tutees and midterms to grade… and this weekend I’m going to the hospital to read."

"I know, you told me, that's why this idea would be so great, listen. If you're okay with it, of course, it'd actually make sense if I moved into your place for the next two weeks again, like last year."

"Excuse me?" The scholar sitting in his office chair looked like he’d just swallowed a jar of butterflies. “Well, that’s sorta…”

"Oh. Alright then, never mind," Genji hummed nonchalantly as if it wasn’t important.

Zenyatta folded the book in his lap and leaned on his knees to have a better angle looking down at Genji.

"No, no, just... how did you come to this conclusion at all?"

"Well, considering that your free week starts first then mine right after that,” the young researcher began, casually as if he’d be talking about groceries, “you'd be at home all the time but it would be highly impractical if I'd walk to your place every day and stuff, so why not just move here? Let’s not pretend like I wouldn’t be here all the time anyway. And during my autumn break I'd be at yours and I’d cook and whatever, plus the things I also need to do. To be honest, I already have lotsa clothes here and another set of toothbrush, towel and all that, so we wouldn't even have to do a big fuss about it. No suitcases of clothes or anything, a duffle bag of stuff would be enough and my two laptops. See? Splendid."

For a few moments his friend was quiet, gaze wandering around the room and his fidgety hands caressed the book’s cover.

"I.. uh, yes. This does sound... a good idea."

"Told ya.”

When Genji got the things the way he wanted, he indeed looked like a content cat who caught the canary.

. . .

Upon entering the largest office room of the faculty, Genji felt multiple gazes on him. When he turned to look, he saw Amélie turn her nose up from her previously quite engaging chat with Lena. Their conversation ceased and even though Lena waved with a friendly smile, the scrutinizing, icy shards of her friend’s gaze raked all over him with openly shown antipathy.

She could no doubt see the black and gold Nepalese embroidered cardigan that he had borrowed from Zenyatta underneath his unbuttoned lab coat. Oh, he knew exactly what irked her.

Amélie folded her arms defensively, which she clearly intended to look demeaning. Her name tag jostled a bit from the movement she nonetheless looked as gorgeous as ever. White with golden edges did suit her marvellously.

“Shimada, I read your proposition and forwarded it already. You can leave,” Amelie told him sharply.

Lena’s shock was purely written on her face; eyes widening and lips parting while the lady quickly recovered her wits, “s-so fast, Amélie! Wonderful!”

Their gazes locked again and Genji raised an unimpressed eyebrow, hands still sunken in his lab coat pockets.

“Thank you Ms. Lacroix. I’ll not intrude.”

“No, you shouldn’t. And I’m still waiting for the file about Mr. Tekhartha substituting you last Thursday, don’t think I’ll let that one slide.”

“Do you ever?”

“Not for you.”

Lena sputtered and quickly apologized for Amélie’s sharp tone, she was just having a rough day! So much bureaucracy to deal with, Genji should hope to never experience the hassle and drag! Neither Genji or Amelie looked her way.

He could hold the gaze of those dangerous hazel eyes forever. His stance did not falter until Lena herself nudged Amélie gently around her side and called her attention back to herself. He repressed a victorious smirk as he began to leave the room..

Amélie had been onto him for years now. It had started five years ago when Genji began to apply for more funding and allowance at the higher ups of the university for his courses and his students’ projects… but came to a sharp edge when Amélie began to suspect him and Zenyatta to be involved in a serious relationship and naturally Genji denied it. For a reason to Genji still hadn’t discovered, ever since then she’d treated him harshly.

His mind was violently dragged out of its course when he turned out the doorway and heard Amélie’s voice behind him, in an attempted hush, yet emotionally driven whisper, "...and that piece of ‘do-I-need-to-say-what’ only uses this so called friendship to bully him."

Lena cut her off good-naturedly and reminded Amélie that it wasn’t their business.

Genji had half a mind to dart back but instead flexed his entire upper body and restricted his breathing into measured, slow in-takes. Well, what _did_ she know? What did she see from the outside? Falling for presumptions made by the “old men” duo and the idle gossip, people yapping their mouths when they were bored… didn’t they have anything better to do? Seriously, _bullying?_

He didn’t bother reading the message his phone beeped with, neither did he have the patience to continue grading afterwards in his office. Involuntarily his fist clenched time and time again, drawing the reflexive strain of his entire right arm as the primary sign of him being tense and annoyed by a problem, an equation he could not figure out. This one, right in front of him yet out in the open fields of reality, he didn’t have a formula or another approach to fix or solve.

He idly continued flipping his age old, favourite engineering ruler around his fingers.

Was he using Zenyatta? Is that what the people thought of him? Not only the gossip of them dating, now it went downhill and he was _using their friendship to hurt_ Zenyatta? He wanted to spit in anger and had to suffice with a shake of his head at the mental image, his brows furrowing with well controlled frustration.

By the time his friend’s class was about to end in a few minutes on the other side of the damned bridge (too long, too icy), Genji was already wrapped in his black duffel coat, the oversized scarf Zenyatta forced him to wear and his winter beanie. If he wanted to save himself from making the eminent promise of a mighty kick true in his rear, he had to play by Zenyatta’s rules…

Wasn’t it just adorable how people thought Zenyatta was the embodiment of politeness, the image of gentle guidance with endless patience and benevolence, Genji mused? Well, they’ve never experienced The Kick with the force that could probably knock a middle-sized elephant over. Genji did the counting. He was a serious physicist and according to his results the elephant would be highly offended after receiving a kick like that.

Looking like a bundled up (but at least warm) robber, Genji practically jogged to the other side of the lake and cursed the bridge for being so slippery. If it hadn’t been for his ultimate ninja skills he would have surely slipped over a dozen times as he crossed it. He entered the building from the sides and immediately took the beanie-scarf unit off as he continued to the other wing and second floor. He was already late by a minute and didn’t want to waste another.

Did Amélie honestly think he was using Zenyatta’s friendship? She should see when he was fixing the man’s phone almost every week or when he fixed his lamps, even the electronics in his car. He had made a pair of indestructible headphones just for Zenyatta with extra long cords. He tended to him the same way like his friend would tend to him, when Zenyatta was the one being sick. He even cooked for him with all skills he possessed, listened to him talk about poetry and for hours and hours, hung on his fanboying over movies with complicated plots.

He programmed Zenyatta’s night lamps to switch on with motion sensors so his friend wouldn’t bump into anything during the night or during the dark seasons. Not to mention that he was probably the only person alive who could endure Zenyatta tearing up over the suffering of fictional people. He _knew_ , _read_ Zenyatta’s moods better than anyone, from the narrowings and squintings of the growing crows feet in the corners of his eyes to the way his eyes glanced away every time he tried to evade an answer with a kind dodge.

What was he thinking, who was he trying to persuade?

Going ahead of manners, Genji entered the faculty’s office and headed to Zenyatta’s little room with a small nod of his head at the others as greeting.

The moment his eyes found his friend, all his resentment vanished. Caught off guard, Zenyatta nearly dropped the book he was so engulfed in and with skittish fumbling packed it away in an instant to greet Genji. He stood and remarked that he spent all yesterday night cleaning his things away so Genji would have more space to unpack, muttered something about dusting Bastion and tripping over a box of trinkets but truth to be told, the Japanese man wasn’t really listening.

With his hands still sunk in his pockets, the engineer welcomed the ever-present warmth spreading from the core of his being. The same soothing, grounding sensation embraced him every time he was upset and entered the same air, same room Zenyatta was in. He didn’t have to speak or do anything, just being by his side calmed whatever was scalding Genji’s mind and soul from the inside. Just the sight of him, his familiar scent, his voice, his entire being acted like a soothing anchor to the young engineer’s soul.

And if he didn’t find Zenyatta pulling on his coat and packing away his books in his own very unique, skittish way cute right after being spooked… Genji let a small chuckle escape his lips as his smile grew.

“ _Zenny, just get me there already. Don’t fret, it’s just me_ ,” he said in Japanese, so nobody else would understand.

“Is it… _Are you okay with having spaghetti for dinner tonight? I didn’t have time to go shopping, I mean, I wanted to but-- the morning was too fast, I mean, went by fast and--”_

 _“Zen-ya…”_ he couldn’t help but reach out with both hands and hold onto his friend’s upper arms as if to anchor him down from the high and it worked in an instant. Zenyatta’s breathing slowed and some kind of haze seemed to evaporate from his gaze.

“ _Yes, what?”_

_“Just take me home, okay?”_

Genji saw the smallest shudder run through his friend’s spine, deep chestnut eyes staring right back at him almost in awe. His own breath was caught for a moment as well from the sheer effect of his own words. He didn’t know where those came from but after such a troublesome day finally he was sure of something. As an attempt to calm him, Genji ran his hands up and down a few times on Zenyatta’s arms before releasing him.

“ _Okay,”_ Zenyatta mumbled and got his leather messenger back from the chair. He looked significantly more collected even though Genji couldn’t help but notice the way his friend avoided his gaze. “ _Let’s go.”_

. . .

Even coming from Nepal and being used to harsh climates did not help when winter arrived in Finland. The sun began to set around 4 pm in the end of October and by three the streets were swimming in the yellow luminance of street lamps but since the heavy rain often arrived holding hands with freezing Northern wind, Zenyatta just called the view ‘good old Tim Burton scenery’. There wasn’t anything magical about the forest covered hills yet. November and December would bring the several layers of snow both the locals and international students anticipated.

If the lake would finally freeze completely and the ice would grow quickly enough, Genji wouldn’t need to use the life-hazardous bridge in between their buildings. Both him and Zenyatta couldn’t wait for the confirmative plaque of the local authorities to allow citizens to walk across the frozen lake between the two campus units.

Zenyatta’s thoughts came to an abrupt stop as he opened his apartment complex’s main door and headed to the elevator. Genji was home with him, the thought sent sparks of gratitude and happiness to all his limbs from the core of his heart, his reflection in the elevator’s mirror smiled like a well-fed schoolboy who’d just been informed Christmas was coming early that year.

Because Genji was already cooking dinner for the two of them, as he stepped out of the elevator his nose picked the appetizing smell of bacon and… teriyaki. In utter glee he had to remind himself, his hand reflexively reaching for his keys, that Genji was home. He said it himself. He was _home_ at his place.

Just before knocking on the door Zenyatta paused for a quick moment to regain a fracture of his dignity and ground himself. Happiness would consume him one day, his mind mused. Two weeks of heaven awaited him.

Genji opened the door with a wooden fork in his hand, wearing black sweatpants and a green shirt as he hopped right back in the kitchen, “welcome home!”

 _Oh, my heart,_ Zenyatta resisted a shudder, simply and utterly happy.

"Thank you! Wow, smells really good! What are you making?" Zenyatta asked as he bent to take his boots off while Genji stirred the substance in the pot.

"The package says I'm making carbonara spaghetti but it really doesn't look like that."

"Doesn't matter how it looks like if it tastes good!" _dear_ , his mind wished to add.

Unexpectedly, Genji made a grimace, "well, at least we have teriyaki in it."

"In carbonara spaghetti? The package says make it with cream!"

Genji simply raised a mock-serious eyebrow and sized him up. When he spoke, it sounded like he was stating a universal truth. "Everything's better with teriyaki and mushrooms."

Zenyatta laughed for a good half a minute before he finally arrived in the kitchen. The so-called carbonara spaghetti sauce looked brown instead of creamy white and while it did have cheese and bacon in it as the package advised, Genji had dumped an entire can of mushrooms in it as well.

“Don’t question,” his friend raised a warning index finger to which Zenyatta replied with a motion of his hand as if he was zipping his lips shut.

“Wouldn’t dare.”

Genji narrowed his eyes again in mock-seriousness and raised his free hand to mimic ‘ninja style’.

“Don’t forget Zenyatta, my friend, Genji is with you.” That, coming from a man who’d trained twenty-five years of martial arts, almost sounded convincing.

Zenyatta poked the engineer in the ribs causing him to jump a little, it was a highly ticklish spot for the man but he deserved it.

“What do I do with Genji if we don’t have any dinner because he can’t follow instructions?”

“Then you go and live on the essence of the universe and embrace tranquility.”

“I’m gonna kick you with modest tranquility,” the Nepalese man quipped back.

Genji put the wooden fork down to laugh back at him, “no! No? That’s like? No! Dammit! Now I’m subjected to threats of domestic violence?”

“Just make something edible, okay, Genji?”

“Dude, can’t you see I’m trying my best? Have some faith.”

Half an hour later Zenyatta secretly raised an unimpressed eyebrow at the plate in front of him and refrained from commenting altogether to save whatever semblance of manly pride Genji had left. Alright, he was not a masterchef and the literary scholar had known this from the very first days of their acquaintance.

He recalled the first time Genji had tried to make rice without a rice cooker from the rice available in the local supermarkets. To say the least, his motivation was broken in half and it had taken almost half a year for him to pick the wooden spoon up again to try and cook anything beyond noodles. Ever since then Zenyatta’d been a supportive friend even in that area. If Genji believed this will taste good, he’d get behind that.

But he still had half a mind to write a note, ‘cause of death: best friend’s culinary arts’ before taking the first bite. In fact… he might as well do so.

While Genji was occupied in the kitchen, Zenyatta slipped back to the entrance and fished his phone out. _Don’t you dare freeze on me now_ , he hissed at it with his most threatening glare he could muster and sneaked back to the living room. His camera worked perfectly, the shot was taken and he’d already switched to WhatsApp.

McCree. Their friend was either spending his evening in the station on active duty or enjoying the company of the local hunting association; either way, Zenyatta tapped the man’s icon and attached the picture with the message…

‘Genji’s murder weapon, so you know when you find my dead body.’

They were already eating the monstrosity when Jesse replied:

18.37. Jesse: “should I put the sirens on”

18.37, reply to Jesse: “too late, murder in progress”

18.38. Jesse: “well, shucks. Was nice knowing you buddy”

“What’s so funny over there?” Genji asked, mouth full of spaghetti.

“McCree.”

“Oh, send him my greetings. I should visit him sometime.”

. . .

It had taken three years and the almost constant company of a Japanese man for Zenyatta to learn Japanese as if it was his mother tongue. When it came to writing by himself without the aid of a computer system however, his lessons were far from over and such times like autumn breaks and spring breaks were more than convenient to sharpen his calligraphy skills and learn more kanji. Not to mention how calming and almost meticulous it was to practice the same signs over and over again while Genji was away at the university for a couple of hours. Sometimes when the engineer took impromptu naps on the couch right after getting home, Zenyatta would prepare better and nicer versions of kanjis and present them to him.

Since Zenyatta’d taken his autumn breaks to be about loosening his schedule a bit and relaxation, during the days when he didn’t have meetings with thesis tutees he would draw and paint while resting on the floor of his home office. It’d become an easy routine between them, that after his classes and eventual meetings Genji would come home and check his work. While enjoying green tea seasoned with menthol leaves he would also share stories with Zenyatta about the history of a few kanji or teach him more combinations and phrases to write with them. It would later turn into watching movies either he or his friend would choose and one of them dozing off on the couch around the end of the evening.

By the middle of the week Zenyatta’d gotten used to having Genji in his home and didn’t have to pinch himself every morning to make sure it was still happening. Finally able to enjoy their domestic bliss, when Genji arrived home his phone was ready and waiting (not freezing, as if it felt the divine need to cooperate) and when the engineer stepped into the living room, he stopped short in his tracks. Zenyatta as usual, was comfortably settled on the couch with a Penguin edition of John Donne but… his phone was filling the room with the theme of Jurassic Park, the entry of the mighty dinosaurs.

Genji could not hold his laughter.

“Welcome home me, I guess?”

Zenyatta’s eyes rose to meet his happily, his phone still going on with the almighty Jurassic Park melody and at once Genji felt important and appreciated just because of the simple act of coming home.

“You’re a teacher and researcher, you deserve an entry song. Food’s in the fridge, if you’re hungry,” Zenyatta tapped his phone’s screen and stopped the music while Genji stepped out of his boots.

“Alright, you’re on. I’ll find your entry song too.”

. . .

Zenyatta had been delighted when he’d found a rare first edition copy of Auden’s books in the depths of ebay; his first move was calling his favourite librarian to inquire, was that book digitalized perhaps or did the university’s library possess any copies? When Mei’d answered with a shrill no and almost began asking him to lend the copy to her for digitalizing it, Zenyatta’d gone forth and offered it himself. As a staunch contributor of the institution he’d already donated dozens of antiques from his personal collection for the sole sake of sharing art and letting the future take care of them.

It was after one of their meetings with the kind and enthusiastic librarian when Zenyatta’d come home and instantly felt something change in the air of his flat. Somehow the air smelled of dust and soap at the same time and it wasn’t right. His mind jumped to the conclusion that Genji must have been cleaning, but _what and where and why_ , since Zenyatta did take care of his flat and he kept it clean. As an owner of three hundred-sixty-five books and two dozen dictionaries and thesauruses, he had to keep his bookshelves dust-clean and airy enough so the more sensitive copies wouldn’t get damaged.

“Welcome home, Zenyatta!”

Quickly he took his winter boots off and shrugged the coat to hang it haphazardly up so he could get to the living room as fast as he could.

“Genji? What are you doing?”

“Well, I remember last time I was here for spring break I organized your shelves neatly into ABC order and now they’re in nothing but chaos.”

The literary scholar felt nothing less than dread run from the top of his head down onto his spine, twisting his tummy and shivering in his toes. He didn’t care about his cap and scarf falling to the floor along with his gloves. “Please tell me you didn’t touch the Conan Doyle and Laozi! They are very fragile!”

Rushing to the room he felt the ground shake beneath him and his knees grew weak from the sight; he had to hold onto the wall for a moment as his eyes let the view sink in his mind… three hundred sixty-five books and two dozen dictionaries all on the floor. Hopefully Genji hadn’t touched the other hundreds in Zenyatta’s bedroom?

His heart trembled as he collected enough courage to ask, “where is my Neruda collection?”

Like someone who’d seen nothing wrong with their own progress, Genji was casually sitting in front of a tall bookshelf as he began arranging Zenyatta’s dearest possessions into ABC order regardless of what kind of books they were.

“It’s somewhere on the other side, by the couch.”

With strength returning to him, Zenyatta opened his arms to finally retaliate: “Genji, these were categorized by writer, genre and language! My dictionaries were beside the writers on purpose!”

For a moment the engineer’s movement ceased and he took an analytic glance at the large pile around him, already halfway to an amused laugh. “Dude, why do you have so many dictionaries by the way? I was meaning to ask!”

“Because my notes are in them, if it’s Hindi and I analysed a poet who writes in Hindi then it goes to the Hindi poetry block,” the Nepalese shook his head in a way someone would disapprovingly look at an over-excited puppy. “I see you were trying to help me and I appreciate the thought, Genji but I had it organized specifically.”

“Well, no problem but… That doesn’t make any sense,” Genji looked back him, as if Zenyatta had done something as shocking as curse; a feat which had never ever happened. “What’s the point if you don’t keep the ABC order within the categories either?

“Well, it has worked so far.” With a deep breath disguised as a tired sigh, Zenyatta pushed himself away from the wall. “You know what, let’s put them into ABC order as you’d like, but within the categories.”

“Satya says, the true enemy of humanity is disorder… lately I’ve been agreeing with her so I decided to help you as well, Zenyatta.”

“That’s very kind of you, in fact. I’d however, prefer my books to be in the previous system but I’d be more than happy to hear your advice on keeping them more organized.” The engineer couldn’t miss the tiniest amount of scolding lurk in the carefully measured tone and choice of words and yet… Zenyatta wasn’t angry at him or anything. That’d be impossible anyway, in Genji’s experience.

“Alright.” With an approving nod Genji took the books off the shelves and carefully placed them back in the pile with the others before he stood up and ran his gaze across the book-flooded living room.

Books on the sofa, overrunning the coffee table and the carpet and the spare arm-chair that Zenyatta previously used as a dump for his clothes. It was a mess. Ready to get to work, Genji placed his hands onto his hips while beside him Zenyatta clicked his tongue.

“You do know how to make us busy in the evenings,” the bald man remarked in a surprisingly calm, even friendly voice as he picked up a book and held it protectively against his chest.

“Well, aren’t I the best? I washed the shelves off for you, just in case.”

“I noticed, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :3 have some fluff before the storm hits right? (Don't worry too much, I'm the Queen of Fluff) It's a short chapter I know, but the next ones will be much longer and I didn't want to drop a mountain of text on you. :3 did you like it? Did you not? Let me know! See you next Wednesday! <3 (should I add the tag "teriyaki carbonara" to the story description...?)


	6. Tinted Glass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Autumn break is still on, so Genji enjoys a pleasant evening with his friends from work. At some point, both Zenyatta and Jesse McCree show up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize in advance for the monster-chapter you get, it's long and a lot of things happen there. I hope you'll like it! Buckle in for feels. I'm very thankful to everyone who left me a lovely comment, you truly are the best readers <3 I'm also very grateful to my wonderful and patient beta Ruriska!

It was way too easy for Zenyatta to fall into routine. He recalled the movie nights with Genji falling asleep in the middle of _Paprika_ or _Memento_ while Zenyatta was clutching a pillow close to his chest in excitement. In return, the next day it would be him dozing off on _How It’s Made_ episodes while Genji was entranced by the way candy canes and fiberglass boats were produced.

It was the little things that meant the most to Zenyatta during the time Genji had been with him; he made sure that his memory would meticulously store all the times the man secretly made him laugh or watch fondly as the actions unfold.

While spending the majority of his own break at Zenyatta’s place, Genji’d become one with the view and felt apparently free in his own skin. More than once Zenyatta’s grading, reading or proofreading was interrupted by the sight of his friend forgetting his whereabouts and with his headphones on he was dancing freely on a chair at the writing desk while he listened to his favourite tracks. In times like these, Zenyatta was tempted to record the silly moves Genji enthusiastically made with his hands and his middle - almost wiggling sometimes when he lost the rhythm. Without exception, Zenyatta ended up watching his friend and holding back all the sounds he’d otherwise make (sputtering laughter or endearing moans). The man was indeed a splash of energy, forever in motion yet always ready to meet him halfway.

The harmony between them was disturbed when Genji’s phone rang and the engineer answered it; luckily it wasn’t his brother but the way his friend had been acting lately, Zenyatta wouldn’t have been surprised if Hanzo would call. Should that occur however, Genji would be more than reluctant to answer and would first stare at Zenyatta like a deer caught in the headlights.

Lena had invited both of them for a Friday night faculty gathering in the local Hemingway’s bar. Genji had been both well-mannered enough to accept it and inconsiderate enough to say yes in Zenyatta’s name. When he hung up the literary scholar couldn’t help but note that the people, while possibly disappointed with his absence but enjoy themselves all the same. Alcohol and Zenyatta did not go hand in hand, no matter the time or occasion.

“Come on, Zenny, Winston’s visiting from Cambridge.”

“He is here every second month…”

“It’s his birthday this weekend.”

“You’re just making this up now.”

“What if I was, just to get you come along? Come on, it’ll be fun. Lena, Amélie and Morrison are coming too. Probably Mr. Reyes too, I’m not sure? Lúcio is guaranteed because I said yes.”

“Enjoy, then.”

“Grump.”

“I don’t like bars, crowds and messy places, that’s it. Just call me when you need a ride home, alright?”

Genji’s eyes narrowed dangerously, “when was the last time you’ve been to Hemingway’s? You can call it crowded but it’s not messy. We’ll have two sofas and board games, Mr. Morrison will probably bring his Scribbles and…” the engineer’s face lit up as an idea struck him, “If we called Jesse!! He’d bring his cards, wow!” And with that, he was already busy typing a text to their friend.

“Alcohol and card games? That’s more than enough for me to kindly decline.”

“Well, suit yourself…” Genji couldn’t hide the hint of disappointment in his voice as he sent the text and pocketed his phone.

The next evening Genji had donned a bright green hoodie with black jeans, his favourite black beanie and much to Zenyatta’s insistence, a scarf and gloves under the coat. By nine o’clock in the evening he was leaving and his friend felt the surprisingly overwhelming emptiness of the flat enveloping him. Deciding against dwelling on the feeling, he had returned to his bedroom to meditate since he figured Genji wouldn’t call for at least another couple of hours.

. . .

It’d taken two hours of shots and another couple of rounds of rum for Genji to feel warm enough, brave enough and funny enough to play canasta against Winston and the team of Lena, Mei and Amélie.

On one side of the sofa, and by the girls’ insistence being dubbed the “Dream Team”, sat none other than Mr. Morrison, Lúcio and himself. It did stroke his ego that Lena and Mei had considered the potential team names of  ‘playboy team’ or ‘team hot shots’ for them, even though Jack more than enough times raised his unimpressed or utterly baffled eyebrows.

Canasta had never been more challenging than when playing it against the girls. Teamed up against him sat a slightly more sober pair of administrators; Amélie, the head of finances in his faculty, and a brilliant librarian with excellent people’s skills, Mei and last, Lena with her wits quicker and sharper than a whiplash. The men’s masculinity was being chopped like Sunday morning bacon and eggs.

Mr. Morrison however, as he drank up his fourth beer, was becoming quite fond of the name ‘Team Hot Shots’, he even went as far as thanking the girls for stroking the ego of an old gentleman like himself… to which a quite tipsy Amélie replied, “seems like Reyes does the exact opposite, we almost pity you sometimes.”

And if it wasn’t challenging enough, Mei raised the already high enough bar for the happily drunk engineers; every time they lost ten points, they had to give up one piece of clothing. Lúcio and Genji shared an amused look at that and by the time Mr. Morrison blinked, one PhD student beside him was taking his boots off and another was shrugging out off his fleece jacket.

“You’re on, we only have two rounds left anyway!” the young genius Lúcio finger-gunned at the winking Mei, and suddenly Genji felt a bit lost without Zenyatta or their friend Jesse who was spending another night-shift in the police-station. “Next game is Jenga, how about every time we win you’ll bring us more beer or bacardi?”

“I’d only give Italian Fernet to Jack, he has enough salt for a thousand,” remarked a smirking Amélie as her head lolled back in a soft laugh while Lena drunkenly giggled as she clutched onto Winston’s large shoulder.

“Ohhhh!! Or we should bring absinthe for this burn!”

Genji leaned back laughing in the sofa to let the pleasant joy of being in his friend's’ company fill him. Morrison looked at him with the quite obvious message of judgement being passed for such undignified behaviour, and for a second Genji wondered if his article would ever make this winter’s publication.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Morrison,” he turned his head with genuine remorse in his eyes.

“I won’t help you out in the next turn, son.”

“Welp, here goes my favourite hoodie…” the Japanese man hugged his middle dramatically while a moderately drunk Lúcio jabbed him in the shoulder, “they take my dignity and my hoodie!”

“Hey, bro, distract them with your superior ninja body and I’m gonna win the next round.”

The bark of laughter coming from the other side of the table crashed their master plan; Lena, Mei and even Winston couldn’t restrain their amusement. Genji, with the ever-present sluggishness of the alcohol spreading through both his mind and body leant forth and supported himself on his knees as he gestured at himself with a free hand, “what, this bad to you?”

“Oh my God, Genji,” Lena hid her eyes while warm flush spread on her cheeks.

“I’ll have you know I worked hard for this!” He motioned at himself with another wave of his hand, “almost twenty-five years of training went into this, four or five times a week! It’s a masterpiece.”

“So sad, the only one appreciating it is absent,” as the French lady sipped more of her wine, Lena’s mouth formed a shocked then utterly entertained ‘o’ as she ended up giggling again.

Genji raised an index finger in retaliation but the words dried on his throat, he was too drunk to come up with any quip or comeback so just settled for downing the rest of his rum when Lúcio slapped on his knee, “dude, that was… that… just… wow. Burn.”

“Damn, Amélie, why must you be so rude with me?”

Amelie was unrepentant. “Oh _mon petit_ , and I haven’t even warmed up! Let’s see how you do in this next round, I hope your engineer brains still work in there for Jenga!”

“I’ll get more drinks,” Winston promised as he stood from the armchair and fixed his slightly askew glasses. As his look took inventory of all academia present and the surprisingly sad, empty state of their glasses on the coffee table, he had to give a disapproving headshake at the scene. Genji knew that headshake all too well from his undergrad years. “Everyone, list your wishes! This one’s on me.”

“I’ll go with you!” Mei stood as well and smoothed her neat cardigan. “Mr. Morrison, any particular wishes?”

“Water, thank you. And perhaps something milder than the last ones for Genji and Lúcio. They had enough of the strong stuff for tonight.”

As expected of them, the two young men whined almost in choir.

“Naaah, Jaaack! We’re adults!”

“Mister Morrisooooon!! We’re fine!”

“Enough,” the older researcher frowned although it didn’t carry any true or serious anger. “It’s always me watching out for all of you,” after the men, he cast a pointed glare at Lena too at which the young grad assistant innocently batted her eyelashes in response, and Amélie gasped in fake bewilderment (“A young lady in the night! The scandal!”). Morrison grunted, “why do you think isn’t Gabriel here?”

“He doesn’t give a shit about us, only whips our asses when we’re late with a deadline!” Lúcio faked crying into Genji’s shoulder as he practically hugged his own colleague’s arm.

Jack pinched the bridge of his nose and repressed a sigh, “I’m sorry about that one time, it was my idea to roast you, Lúcio! It’s a rite of passage!”

The young man remained clutching at Genji’s arm, most likely because he was warm, Genji supposed. Zenyatta did compliment him being warm all the time. “Mr. Morrison’s gonna roast you too Genji, you just watch! When you get published overseas, they will methodically kill you in the next meeting!”

“It’s a rite of passage!” Lena _tsk_ ’d and finished her drink… some sort of cider.

All the while the happily drunk Japanese man released a slow yet still very much amused laughter, his imagination running wild.

“I spy with my little eye… Reyes watering sunflowers in the night.”

The rest of the team reacted as if they were spooked; Jack straightened on his seat and looked around in alarm while Lena clung to Amélie’s armchair and tried to hide under the seat, looking sheepishly at her friend. Like a true professional at work, Amélie took the perfect official business lady sitting position, as if she wasn’t even near the coffee table covered in cards and half-full glasses. That’s when they realized that Genji was too drunk and indeed intended to spook them.

“Oh, ooooh!” Genji’s face lit up as if he’d seen a walking Christmas tree, finger jumping up in the air, “look who’s here! I knew it! I knew you’d come! Heh? He can’t hear me he is too far!”

Jack pinched the bridge of his nose and searched the crowd in an attempt to find a quite out-of-his-element, short literary scholar who was probably way too polite to pass amongst the crowd without bumping into people. When his eyes finally found the indeed very much tense and lost Zenyatta, he stood but Genji was faster, yelling ‘Zenny’ loud enough that his friend’s face turned to them like a scared sheep. He sent a weak wave back at them with his hand.

Lena covered her face in embarrassment and when she peeked up she saw Amélie doing the same.

“I’ma go get ‘im”, Genji announced and stood up with his arm slipping off so fast of his friend’s hold that the drowsy, drunk Lúcio slammed his back against the sofa and looked as if he’d seen a ghost.

“I swear, I saw. Reyes is here among us! He knows I haven’t started the analysis yet! _He knows!”_

“And we let these two into doctoral school.”

Jack wiped his face in a gesture that spoke novels and when his eyes met Amélie’s she just sipped more of her white wine and shrugged, “at least they’ve got humor. Such is life, Jack, you can’t have it all.”

While Winston was finally informing one of the bartenders about their orders, Genji’s hand wrapped safely around Zenyatta’s wrist and began pulling him mercilessly through the crowd that seemed too large and intimidating for the smaller man. Bumping into couples, random groups and lone people, Zenyatta felt extremely overwhelmed with the only light of hope being Genji’s presence beside him. In his mounting embarrassment, his face flushed and he felt incredibly exposed even though he still wore his parka coat, scarf and beanie.

When an arm suddenly encircled his waist and Genji’s hold slipped from around his wrist for a few moments, Zenyatta felt like he was going to be swallowed whole by the abyss of the void; in a small ocean of people his mind went into overdrive and he whipped his head to the side to see his attacker, but a slightly slurred, feminine voice was already purring into his ear.

“Hello sweetie, you know you’re really pretty from behind…”

In absolute fright and repulsion he almost jumped but didn’t want to hurt the lady so he sharply turned his head back in Genji’s direction. His eyes widened further as he recognised the unmistakable flare of anger and jealousy in the engineer’s glare as he wasted no time in grabbing Zenyatta’s wrist again and not at all gently pushed the drunk lady off with a confident move. She slipped off him easily and was already ready to whine in discontent when Genji announced loud enough for their close proximity in the crowd to hear as well;

“Yes he knows, I tell him every day. No need to tire yourself.”

Before Zenyatta recovered, Genji pulled him onward with the slightest amount of irritation in his voice, “seriously? When was the last time you’ve been here?”

“I try to avoid places like this, not attend them!”

“I’m here, Zenny, just stay close and you’ll be fine!” The Japanese man wobbled a bit as he circled around a group of people for the last time before they approached the sofas. Mei jumped to greet her friend with a hug while Genji motioned for Lúcio to move further away on the sofa so Zenyatta could sit down beside him.

“Zenyatta, it’s been weeks! How have you been? I’m so happy to see you!” The other young researcher reached over to shake hands with the newcomer.

“Same here! Congratulations for the Stockholm meeting, Lúcio, I heard it went really well!”

“Tekhartha, how’s it going?” Jack raised a glass at him and the man nodded his greetings.

“Thank you kindly, it’s been kinda hectic! I only came to check if everything was alright, Genji, you don’t answer your phone!”

The engineer’s mouth hung open for a moment while his drunk mind processed the sentence with a barely hidden brainfreeze, “yup, oh. Sorry.”

“Come on, Zenyatta, sit with us for a while, you don’t have to drink!” Lena plead with her best set of puppy eyes, somehow still halfway across Amélie’s armchair with the elegant lady not minding her presence at all. That was when Winston returned carrying a tray and with Mei’s help they gave the drinks to each other. Genji raised his hand in a toast, only to waver the glass a bit in his hold and ask Zenyatta to sit beside him.

“We’re in the middle of a canasta party, by the way. The girls want my hoodie,” he managed to say with his tongue slipping here and there and still registered the almost pitying look Zenyatta gave him. Neither of them took note of Jack’s pleasant, deep rumble of laughter.

“It’s probably best if we go before you lose it,” Zenyatta replied to which Genji yelled with a loud gesture, as if trying to imitate a warrior.

“But you’re here now, to the rescue!”

“Oh, no no. I’m terrible at canasta.”

“You lie, you whip my ass when we play!”

Lena’s wide eyes jumped up at Amélie’s and found the returning smirk and wink more hilarious than Genji’s exclamation. Finally she sat up and pulled her armchair closer to her friend to begin murmuring her plan into her ears. Amélie’s smirk grew behind the refilled wine glass.

On the other side however, Mei’s face twisted in obvious discontent and Zenyatta pried Genji’s affectionate arms away from himself so he could lean above the table and ask her, “what’s wrong?”

“I think they gave me something weird, this doesn’t look like a cider! I’ll take it back! Winston? Do you have the receipt?”

Lúcio barked a laughter with Lena joining in, “who keeps the receipts in a bar?!”

“Well,” the scientist reached back to his jeans pocket and dug around for a few seconds before his eyes lit up in triumph, “I do! Here you go!”

“Mei-Ling, take care out there,” the gentle commanding voice quickly reminded all them who was still sitting amongst them; involuntarily Genji shifted closer to Zenyatta as if to avoid an upcoming scolding from the professor. “If you feel you’re being tricked raise your fist high and I’ll be right there. I’ll be watching.”

“Thanks, Mr. Morrison, I appreciate it,” she gave Jack the most wonderful smiles Zenyatta had ever seen her giving to someone, as if a drop of sunshine was among them. “I’ll be right back!”

His attention was quickly turned back to a drunk and affectionate Genji hugging his left arm like a koala, much to his surprise. Not that he minded the touch and warmth radiating from the man, it was nice even if Genji was drunk and wouldn’t make it into a big deal upon sobering up. Zenyatta even smiled and gave a few tender pats on his friend’s head with his other hand until the engineer suddenly began speaking into his ear, his forehead pushing at the smaller man’s shoulder with the faint yet enticing scent of aftershave lingering around when he raised his chin.

“Oh Zenny. Really. I-I really think you are the best. Like, magic,” he sighed. “You’re awesome. You're my bestest friend, Zenyatta. Like, I mean, the best friend I've ever had in my life. You're really important to me, dude. I love you.”

“I know, Genji.” He replied and turned his head to meet his gaze His voice hummed calmly and yet there was a certain sorrow in his eyes Genji didn't understand.

“What's wrong, Zenya? Don’t just Han Solo me, I'm here for you, tell me,” he even ran his hands up and down on the embraced arm.

“No, it's not important.” At least Zenyatta gave a weak smile his way, as if Genji would be blind and wouldn’t see his friend’s heart breaking beneath the feigned glee in his eyes.

His attention perked up.

“It is, to me.” He stated through the drunken haze. “It matters to me, I want you to be happy, okay? Just tell me, I'm not gonna tell anyone, I'm here for you.”

If Genji won the lottery every time he read Zenyatta’s tells when he tried to lie, he’d be richer than Hanzo.

Zenyatta looked away, his smile faltering. “I'm afraid I can't yet. I'm not ready.”

“Well, whenever you are, I'm here for you. Always. You're family to me Zen.”

“Thank you.”

“Oh, it's me who should thank you. We’re in this for the long run, trust me.”

“Zenyatta, I managed to get them make cocoa for you!” Mei laughed from across the table as she settled with two tall glasses in her hand but when her eyes landed on the two, especially on Zenyatta, all cheerfulness was suddenly gone. It perplexed Genji to no end, especially when she announced, “Zenya, you and me, outside. We need some air.”

“You just got here!” Genji protested but the librarian was already putting the glasses down in front of him.

“Watch these Genji, Zenyatta come! I just remembered I have some news for you! We haven’t talked in weeks!”

“Sure, take him away, like I’m not even here…” Genji almost whined at the loss of Zenyatta’s body warmth and his huggable, thin arm. His hazelnut brown eyes watched like a kicked puppy after his friend.

Mei sent a disapproving shake of her head in his direction as she held Zenyatta’s hand and helped him get out of the comfortable sofa so she could guide him outside. Without giving him a break she led him farther away from the entrance door and slipped her coat on, while he hugged his middle in a feeble attempt to comfort his trembling ribs.

“Really now, it's okay, we’re outside.” Her gentle voice guided Zenyatta’s reeling mind back to the present. Freezing cold, Finland in the end of October with Mei-Ling giving him a reassuring back-rub just outside of Hemingway’s. Her empathetic eyes connected with his gaze. “What did he tell you this time?”

“Nothing, It's okay, I'll be fine. Really. Don't… Don't worry about me,” he attempted and failed at giving a reassuring smile, it lacked substance and she just glanced away. Who was he kidding?

His breathing became heavier as the seconds ticked by. Mei’s lips pursed in a tense line, her annoyance apparent. “He’s so insensitive, has the common sense of a rock…”

“No, it's not his fault, don't blame him please…” Oh, now his vocal chords failed him, his pleading came out coarse and deep.

“Zenyatta…” Without looking, she fetched a tissue and gave it to him and the man wiped his nose and sniffed a few times. “I'm so sorry, come hug me.”

His voice failing him again, Zenyatta let Mei embrace his middle as he hugged his friend back and felt reassurance warm his insides, spreading like ivy. She was almost as tall as him and as the calming scent of magnolia slipped into his mind through his nose from Mei’s hair, Zenyatta finally felt himself relax in her well-meaning hug.

“Thank you, Mei. I really appreciate it. I can do this.”

“But you shouldn't… You're hurt so deeply, you need to get out of it. How will you move on?”

The question which clawed and gnawed at his heart time and time again, yet he never found neither the courage or honesty to give it an answer.

The easiest was to reply, “what if I don't want to move on?”

“Zenyatta… You can't spend your life like this.”

“What if I'm content…

“Seriously? You think I'm that naive?”

“No. Of course not, what, how can you…”

He should have known that Mei wouldn’t be so easily deterred like his mother. The staunch protector of archives and knowledge took a step back to look at him with such a stern yet concerned expression that Zenyatta couldn’t hold her gaze.

“Then look into my eyes and say that sentence again. In my face.”

“Mei, please…” His entire body trembled like a strung chord of a guitar. “It's difficult as it is.”

“You do realise that he is not going to…” Even she couldn't finish it, glancing away. “Zenyatta, you deserve someone who loves you back and cherishes you.”

Words dried on his throat as he bit into his upper lip, then lower lip first. Mercilessly she continued as she peeled one his hands away from his middle and held it tight, even though he couldn’t find the strength to meet her gaze.

“You have to move on. Maybe you think I'm being harsh but it's not just me who thinks this, we are worried about you. A whole lot of people. You look sad and I don't want to see  it anymore, now I know that you are sad, and deeply hurt every day. It's like you make yourself live in happiness on borrowed time.”

“Don't say it…” He turned, slipping his hand from her fingers and covering his face with both his palms. “I can't hear it. I don't want to. I can't.”

It took all his remaining strength and consciously slowed breathing that his heart did not beat itself out of his ribcage, throat tightening impossibly like in a churn. Her palm was gentle, warm and yet treacherous on his back.

“Maybe that's exactly what you need.”

“Maybe I like this, my own purgatory.”

“Zenyatta… What will you do then?”

It came to him almost like a revelation, a ray of sharp light after the night-time fear. Slowly his hands retreated from his face and he felt Mei catch one right away, as if to anchor him with herself in the present. His gaze grew more distant, kindling an idea and letting it take form. Not a plan yet, just an opportunity.

“Leave.”

Her pause told volumes of her stupefaction. “Excuse me?”

“I'll just leave. Simple as that.”

“No, no, you can't do that to us! You can't just… Pack up and leave! You would leave everything behind?”

“Mei… You said it yourself, I am sad and I'm not gonna lie, yes I'm hurt,” he began almost like a machine, all logic and reason against the frightened rebelling of his hammering heart. “And when this ends, the best I can do is leave it behind and not see it. I can lie to myself about supporting him till the very end but truth is, I could not bear witness while powerless and unable to have a say in it. Knowing myself, I would just leave. Transfer, exchange, whatever. He needs to grow on his own when the time comes, when I will not have a place… Anymore.”

By his side. Around him. With him.

She hugged him again, full of love and support.

“You are just…I wish I could help.”

“Help me when the time comes?”

“Well, of course. You can count on me, on us. We will find you a place somewhere else, even if we’ll be terribly sad when you go.”

“Thank you, truly. I think I'll go and take a walk. I'll be back soon.”

His senses began to numb around him and only partially from the freezing cold weather around them. Zenyatta felt the welcoming shelter of peace surround him, taunting him to consent to the truth and be alone with his thoughts; let them take him away from the present. She released him and took a few steps back, her compassionate eyes glistening in the yellow street lights, welled up with emotions. With her hands fumbling and not finding peace, she watched him reply with a serene, soothing smile while his eyes remained distant.

“Alright… Do you want me to go with you? Not to be alone?”

“If you don't mind, I'd like to think and… See where I get. I'll be back, you will see.”

She watched him turn, tuck his hands into his pockets and go. “Alright, I… Alright.”

Zenyatta didn’t need to look, he knew she’d pursed her lips with overflowing sorrow and covered her mouth with a hand. She’d always been here for him. From the very beginning.

...

The heat began to be overwhelming; with Lúcio dozing off on one side and Lena on the other, holding them both from falling over, the man felt growing discontent irk him. Mei had taken Zenyatta away and now his mood had turned so sour he was ready to churn it into lemon juice. The thought of Mei and Zenyatta occupied his mind for so long that he turned his head to the side and watched through the large windowpane behind their sofa. His eyes narrowed in concentration and he swore he saw Mei hug his friend in a very friendly way. She even laid her head on Zenyatta’s shoulder.

With a deadpan look that would frighten bright young engineer minds any other day, Genji turned his face to glare at Amélie who’d switched to drinking cider and was enjoying Winston’s recalling of an anecdote from Jack’s younger days.

“Amélie,” he called and had to repeat it a few times for his colleague to hear it over the loud background noises and music of the club. When her eyes finally turned to him, amusement and pity crossed her features. “Amélie, dammit, can you hear me?”

“I can, Genji! What is it?”

“My life is officially over, you can throw me out of the next window!”

Her perplexed, taken aback expression was priceless; Lena’s content body shook with the gentle tremble of a tired laugh.

“What’s your problem, Shimada?”

He tilted his head and nodded upwards in a way that Amélie would understand; when she got the message and straightened up a bit to look out on the window, her lips parted and much to Genji’s drunken surprise she seemed to show compassion. In the end, her gaze hardened when she looked back at him.

"They are friends. Friends sometimes hug. You should know that the best, so calm your tits."

His mind in a hazy, warming mist of alcohol, Genji’s gaze dropped to his own chest as if he had a prepared speech to deliver to his mentioned body parts.

Out of the blue, both Lúcio and Lena began to laugh like they’d just been tickle-bombed; Lena was holding her tummy and Lúcio, dear and pure genius Lúcio leant to the other side and caught himself on Jack’s armchair. The older professor raised a bewildered eyebrow at the scene but figured the young ones must have shared a joke.

“I can’t, he freakin’ looked down! At his! Tits!”

“You guys know what I teach every day, right?” Genji's winked mischievously.

“Oh no,” Lúcio wiped his eyes but got his breathing under control to hear his friend’s joke. Amélie braced herself not to reach out and smack him in the face.

“Robotits.”

“ _Merde,_ Shimada!”

“Aww poor thing, I’ll bring him more rum, this is hilarious!” Lena jumped into action before a more-than concerned looking Amélie could stop her, needless to say her watchful gaze followed the young Briton’s line through the people right up to the bar.

“No, no, I need no alcohol anymore,” instead of simply staying put Genji hesitantly stood up with more than necessary wobbling, “I needta’ go and find Zenny. He’s gonna catch cold.”

He had enough mental presence to grab his hoodie and his coat but by the time Lúcio fished his phone, beanie and scarf from under the table for him, the drunk engineer was already halfway out of the club. That was when Lena’s tiny fist shot up from the line of the counter and in an instant Amélie and Jack shared an alarmed gaze. They both jumped from their seats at the same time.

. . .

 

In an engineer’s mind, things made sense because they were based on a carefully analysed, systematic and logical reason why they were sensible. When in doubt they returned to the basics of that system and started analytically from the beginning no matter what kind of problem or absence of formula stood in front of them. So when Genji made his way out of the club and with an unstable hand held onto the railing leading to the entrance, his eyes scanned the people standing around and found… no trace of his friend.

The thought puzzled him to no end; Zenyatta had been standing here just a few minutes ago. With Mei, who’d also disappeared. Genji gave a drunken attempt at standing on his toes and quickly retreated onto his heels; that was not a good idea.

Now he decided, the situation was officially announced as dire. Zenyatta was missing.

He was, by all definition of the word, lost. Taken away, present at an unknown location, unable to be tracked by Genji.

Lost, his mind repeated for emphasis. His only and dearest friend was lost.

Lost things tend to be found, however, and he even raised an index finger as if to reason with the empty air in front of him. His feet somehow carried him away from the door and the cold wind hurt his ears; a sensation which helped him focus on the task. Because, he had a task now. He had to find Zenyatta.

Still slightly unsure about his balance, Genji let his feet take him another few meters when he looked around the large square and realized where he was. A few blocks down towards the train station and the bus station… oh. Of course!

Silly him, of course! Lost things tended to be found by the police, they had a lost and found section! If someone lost their bike, their car, whatever, he gave a nonchalant wave of his hand at the air, they would call the police. But the police was in two blocks’ walk, he could just walk there and take his Zenyatta back. Jesse was there too!

Oh, that was just perfect! Seeing McCree _and_ getting Zenyatta back!

His smirk radiated self-assurance and confidence, he was a genius after all. The heely-champion of the campus.

With returning strength and balance in his feet, Genji set off to walk over to the police and ask if they had seen Zenyatta, and if they did, could they just kindly give Zenyatta back to him? A most sensible, logical plan it was.

In this hour with no traffic he crossed the intersection without looking and entered a light jog until his lungs protested too hard. The cold wind and his own exhaustion caught up with him around the middle of the second block as he walked by the walls of the local police station even though the alcohol was still warmly humming in the back of his mind. He wondered if Zenyatta would be happy to see him.

As he pushed the door open and refrained from looking way too enthusiastic, the heavy weight of the door threw him slightly off balance and he hung onto it for a few seconds. The Finnish police officer in the reception stared at him as if she’d seen a lunatic.

“Good evening,” he even held up an unsure hand as he slipped in and stood straight again; the drunken, wobbly haze only returned for a few moments. The blonde officer behind the desk put her pen down and leaned forward on her chair. Genji could see she wasn’t even sure where to begin so instead of waiting for her, he continued. “Hey, I’m sorry for -- troubling you, have you seen a guy around… this height, bald but has a red beanie, dark blue coat, brown eyes, gorgeous cheekbones? I lost him on the main street.”

Now she really eyed him like he was a lunatic.

“Excuse me sir, could you sit down for a moment? You’re intoxicated. May I have your identity card?”

“Is Jesse McCree here? He said he was on night shift tonight?”

“Je…, ah, Jesse!” She pronounced his name in the Finnish way and Genji almost broke out laughing but held it back with self-control. His head was still swimming and he took a liking to the new sitting position after she escorted him to the wall with several chairs lined up. “He is here and he is indeed working. I can’t just call him to you, his next coffee break is in around…” she glanced away for a moment at the wall. “Half an hour.”

“Come on, he knows I’m coming to visit him! He knows where Zenyatta is, I’m sure!”

“Is this.. Zen-yatta person, missing?”

“Yeah, I saw him outside the… the… the bar, and when I got out he disappeared completely!”

“And you’re saying Jesse knows where he is?” Again with the Finnish ‘Yess-e’ pronunciation!

“Yes, miss. He surely does, that’s why I came here!”

She gave him a suspicious, calculating look with her piercing sky-blue eyes; Genji however, was too tired and half-drunk to have any quip or flirtatious compliment ready.

“Alright. I’ll call him down for you, sir.”

“Thank you. You’re the best, miss policelady.”

He couldn’t miss how she stifled a laugh behind the serious and professional mask as she walked back to her desk and picked the phone up. A few lines into her conversation, Genji’s attention snapped at her again, “hey! You said I’m Japanese, tell him it’s Shimada! Shimada, he will know!”

“ _Hän on Shimada, kuten ehkä kuulet.”_

“The younger one!”

“ _Nuorempi, se sanoo, Jesse tuletko tänne auttamaan?”_ Not a second later she gave an easy laugh into the phone and told Genji, ”he says, ‘thank God it’s the younger one’!”

“Is he coming here? Does he know where Zenyatta is?”

“ _Jesse, tule heti. Ei se haittaa, teet sitä myöhemmin. Tule vaan.”_

After spending a decade in Finland, Genji had enough knowledge of the language to know she practically asked Jesse to leave whatever he was working on and come asap. She hung up and sighed as her gaze returned to him then wandered around the empty hall of the station.

In silence around half a minute passed before the heavy thuds of Jesse’s boots approached from the stairways - quicker than he should have and without his four-legged companion. Genji stood to greet him but was thrown off balance by his own head again. Upon seeing him, McCree chuckled, Genji swore, _chuckled_ and thanked his colleague for the help.

“Genji,” he opened his arms in a warm welcome and the smaller man was happy to accept the big bear hug he got, “what brings you here, I haven’t seen you in like… a month?”

“Yeah, it’s been a long time, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-- it’s been hectic.”

“Sure thing, buddy, it was busy for me too. We’ve been out hunting all September with the boys out there, should have seen Tuco playing in the leaves.” Jesse’s warm mud-brown eyes swept over him and Genji couldn’t stop smiling back at him even after the policeman released him. “Shouldn’t you be heading home? We can meet up some other time but you don’t look so well right now.”

“In fact, I was looking for Zenyatta, have you seen him? I lost him.”

The genuine surprise in his friend’s eyes scared him more than he expected.

“No, I haven’t seen Zenyatta in several months. Is something the matter, what do you mean you lost him?”

“Well, one minute he was with me, the next…” Genji frantically tapped around his body to find his phone but in the end he just stared back at McCree in a fright close to panic, “I can’t find my phone either... “

“You lost Zenyatta _and_ your phone? Sheesh, alright. Let me call him from mine.”

“Please do. If he doesn’t answer…” Genji’s hand shot up to his head and he couldn’t help but press harshly at the spot around his jabbing left temple. With a confident hand Jesse grabbed his shoulder and pushed him back down onto a chair.

“Stay there, buddy. I’ll get your man.”

“Thanks, McCree.”

“Ain’t a problem. If he doesn’t have your phone, we’ll write it up. Do you guys need a ride home?”

“No, Zenyatta didn’t drink, he’s with the car. He’ll take us home.”

Jesse nodded as his finger swiped past the lockscreen and he went on looking for Zenyatta’s name. In the meantime Genji wrapped his arms around himself and attempted to take long, deep breaths to calm the still very much present buzz in his head and the growing discomfort of not knowing his friend’s whereabouts. “Jesse, what if he doesn’t answer?”

“Hold on, it’s ringing,” the tall man’s deep voice rasped from above and Genji tried his best at staying quiet even his the thoughts were too loud in his mind. Zenyatta wasn’t prone to leaving so abruptly, why would he do that? He wouldn’t leave Genji anywhere like that; something must be wrong.

When Jesse spoke up a bit louder the engineer’s eyes widened in anticipation.

“Hey, Zenyatta, it’s Jesse. I have your boyfriend right here.”

Genji couldn’t help but release a half-drunk giggle at the euphemism.

“No, he walked in by himself, no assaulted trash bins this time. I hope,” he cast a suspicious gaze down at Genji who in an instant raised both palms up in innocence. “You can pick him up whenever, I won’t let him go back outside.”

“Can you ask about--”

“Ah, yes, he said he couldn’t find his phone. Other than that he looks… drunk and tired. He’s fine, don’t worry.”

After a short minute which seemed eternity to Genji, Jesse agreed to something and said his goodbye before hanging up and looking down at the lost and found Japanese man.

“Alright, buddy, he has your stuff. It’ll take around fifteen minutes for Zenyatta to arrive so let’s get you a blanket and some water. You scared the shit out of him, by the way,” the American gently pulled at Genji’s arm. “Come, up you go.”

“Thank you, Jesse, thank you.”

“Hey, don’t mention it. You could visit me and Tuco more often though. There is time for one round o’ poker now if you’re up for that.”

“Definitely!”

. . .

Instead of poker they settled for easy rounds of Skip-bo since Genji’s mind was way too exhausted for any sort of planning and counting in advance. One match turned into two and on Jesse’s insistence he’d downed at least a litre of water during the span of half an hour.

At this point, Jesse was wondering if he was supposed to call Zenyatta again yet as he looked at Genji and the deck on the table, he didn’t have the heart to do so. He missed this guy and since Zenyatta was sober, he was probably walking from the main street and it did take some time.

Besides, Genji was talking about that gorgeous and mighty powerful brother of his and Jesse wouldn’t have stopped him for anything. May the apocalypse knock on the town’s borders, he wouldn’t trade Genji’s monologues for anything, just like the other would always listen to his long tales and laments about his past. Sometimes Jesse wondered how their acquaintance had evolved into something this profound; sharing rather personal stories and their hopes for the future even though the first time they had met five, six ( _wow, Jesse was old)_ years ago, Genji was in the midst of drunkenly assaulting a trash bin because it ‘did not roll with him’.

Here they were now, Jesse craving a cigarette and holding on till his next coffee break while Genji was trying to get his last cards off the deck and win the round. His mind wandered in the post-drunken daze yet his eyes still had that sort of elevated glint to them which told McCree to keep whatever was being said as another top-secret file on the shelf of their friendship.

“Under that thick… Kevlar… Glass fiber… Diamond tough shell, he cares. He does. He's just… Not an easy person. But he cares, you know, Jesse? I miss him. I miss my brother.”

His words rang between them almost like a plea, as if Jesse would just give Hanzo back to him from a time-out.

“He was worried about me, when I left,” the younger man went on, casually as if he was talking about the weather. “We argued, he told me… Because he was worried, he told me, researcher life is not as glorious as it seems from the outside. If I don’t make it, I’m left with nothing.”

Genji’s gaze hardened, wandering mid-air, swimming with his memories and not at all on the deck of cards waiting right in front of him. Jesse’s sigh was understanding between them and Genji looked him in the eye again. “It's not a life insurance. You don't know whether you make it or not. You can just end up with nothing, where you began years ago without any success if you're simply… Not good enough. If you have no connections. If you're not… What it takes. He warned me, he told me just get the degree and start working for the corporation. I'd have a well paid, content life, I’d have whatever I wanted, and he could watch over me.”

He looked around himself as if to check his surroundings hadn’t changed, then back at Jesse.

“He would, if I'd let him. He cares, Jesse, but… when I left, he pushed me away because he thought he failed me, he failed himself because he couldn't protect me from this, he assumed the worst and wanted to protect me. The rest was just the council…”

Despite what he already knew about Hanzo, Jesse had always found the man’s ways of dealing with his little brother way too complicated. Had they opened up to one another and played with all cards out, the American was certain things would’ve turned out differently. But then again, neither of the Shimada’s were easy to decipher when it came to communication.

“Keep me leashed in the corp, but he couldn't make me stay and it hurt him. That's why… But I miss him. Hanzo is good. He is,” Genji added once more, as if to convince someone. After all the time they’d shared drinks, games and stories he didn’t have to convince Jesse anymore. “I miss him. But he is away. Not just… I can hop in the car and I'm there, away. He is on another continent, Jesse. I see him once or twice a year now that we started talking again, and I miss him. And I only see him for a few hours, between his flights. He visited my flat a few times to see it, to see me, he drove up in the middle of the night between his flights just to see me. He wanted it to be just us. Brothers.”

He paused again and Jesse remembered the picture of Hanzo. There was no kicking around the bush with that guy, his mind recalled, sharp edges and piercing eyes that’d put the glare of a dragon to shame.

“I know he wants us to be closer like we used to be, talk freely about everything, share everything again. And I want that too but even now it’s difficult. Talking with him alone is difficult,” Genji placed a few number on the desk but it was clear to Jesse that he wasn’t paying any attention to their game. The engineer tilted his head in solemn contemplation. “He just… doesn't have time anymore, doesn't have energy, patience and from the outside he seems intimidating. I always have to remember that. Jesse, my brother is there somewhere deep down, but this entire… bullshit, called, being CEO just swallowed him up whole.”

“Wow, you're poetic.”

“I miss my brother.” He plead again, as if Jesse would give Hanzo back to him.

The tall man hummed in response and reached across the table to pull the blanket higher on Genji’s shoulder.

“I miss my brother. I love him, the person he was, and he is there deep down. I see it when I act silly around him or when he lets his eyes show how he feels. He doesn't even smile anymore. It's all a mask and he is just tired. He doesn't even try to hide it from me anymore, that's the only thing I know about him now. He is tired. He still keeps going because he has no other choice, and he knows it.”

“Damn.”

“And he doesn't even try to call me home for Christmas anymore, he knows it'd be a disaster, me and the family in one space. Only my name is Shimada, to them I don’t exist anymore. The life that I live is meaningless and selfish for them as long as I don't do it for the sake of the family, and my research means nothing to them. My projects, my students, the courses I lead, the conferences I go, the PhD hearings I attend and what I publish, they don't even read that shit you know? Hanzo does. He sends me texts to congratulate every time I publish something and I didn't even tell him about it. He just… follows, what I'm doing.”

He sobbed, throat heavy and tight.

“I miss my brother. I wish he was with us. Here. Zenyatta could help him, he helped me so much with dealing with this… hate and despise that I felt. It's all gone, because Zenyatta… He just knows how to deal with feelings and stuff. The things you would never tell anyone, you can tell Zenyatta..”

“He is… Yes. He is a real good friend.”

“He is a wonder.”

McCree raised a curious eyebrow. “Oh. Yes.”

“Sometimes I just look at him and think, how does this person even exist, like look at him? His hands are so gentle he couldn't kill a spider even if he is afraid of them, he wouldn't hurt anything, because he respects and holds all life dear to him like on a personal level. He talks to his books and his phone. And then he misplaces his pens and notes all the time, he forgets the milk on the counter, he mixes his socks up and he is never angry. Ten years, I never saw him getting angry over anything. Not even when shit went down in his family. He didn't get angry, he just… went ahead and dealt with it.”

“Nice.”

“He would help Hanzo, if they would meet. Would Hanzo even listen? I'm not sure if he would. He probably wouldn't at first… There is a shitton of anger in him too… and disappointment, at himself. All the time. The first meeting would go like… Like, he'd feel Zenyatta tried to tell him how to think. He wouldn't get the point. He's all closed up. But I'd still try and get them to talk. Zenyatta could help him be a… a person again. Not a machine living on corporate needs.”

“Honestly, with all due respect to your brother, I'd be really curious what he thinks of his own life.”

Genji gave him a grave look.

“It's,” he blinked fast and almost shuddered to get whatever thoughts out of his mind. “You don't want to hear that.”

“He told you?”

“A bit. I wish he was here with us… I miss him. My brother. Who he really is.”

 

. . . .

 

They did not address Zenyatta’s disappearance on the last Friday for a few days, since he spent most of Saturday in the central hospital, reading literature for the children who weren’t allowed to go home. In parallel Genji spent almost the entire weekend fussing about some logical mishap in the theory soon to be presented in his scientific article. In the process of wrecking his brains to find the solution he ended up re-organizing the shelves in the kitchen where his friend kept his spices and other dry ingredients during the time the owner of the flat was absent.

While Zenyatta was comfortably settled on the couch grading midterm papers and preparing his lecture notes for the rest of the semester, the engineer was most often found counting, measuring and assembling the circuits on the spot at the other’s writing desk.

More often than not he would explain and demonstrate his theory and ask for feedback from a literary scholar who was uncharacteristically sluggish and slow. The phenomenon did not go unnoticed by Genji yet he chose to stay quiet about it until the right time came; at first he thought Zenyatta was simply exhausted or still overwhelmed by Friday night and simply had to shrug the stress off.

The presumptions were mistaken, the critical approach concerning the accounted data collected about Specimen “Zenya” was entirely wrong. And even though Genji tried to see the lighter side of things and hoped that his friend was only working his way through something that troubled him and would eventually come around and tell him, he was unprepared for what came next.

It left him in a daze, worried for his friend and replaying the scene over and over in his mind, breaking the cogs in his brains as he desperately tried to backtrack, when did all go wrong? What did he miss? By all means, he had tried to be an attentive friend and still Zenyatta had proven him one Tuesday night that he was very, very naive and wrong in that assumption.

. . .

Genji had examined Zenyatta from the distance for hours by now. He was quiet, way too quiet, almost unmoving as he barely turned a page in his book and Genji just knew, _knew_ that Zenyatta wasn't even focused on the lines. Something was troubling him, something was eating at him and Genji didn't like things, whatever those may be, hurting his friend. The reason why Zenyatta had been so silent however was such a mystery that he could not find an equation to solve it with, having too many unknown numbers and a way too complicated mind as platform.

When he heard the dozenth sigh in the span of a few hours, he frowned and pushed his calculator away.

“What's the matter, Zenny? Tell me.”

Like a deer caught in the headlights, the bald man froze and if it was possible, shrunk a few sizes into the corner of the couch. Lips pursed in a thin line, he tried to mutter something but failed.

“I can see something’s wrong, tell me. Maybe I can help.”

The accentuated move of Zenyatta’s Adam’s apple told him that his friend was indeed upset but was true to his habits and kept the storm sealed away inside, probably working on understanding the depths and causes of said storm.

Soon however, and much to Genji’s surprise, Zenyatta set the book aside and hugged his own middle in a gesture that spoke of unabashed pain and loneliness. Genji’s breath was involuntarily caught in the shock, purifying his mind of any other thought than Zenyatta.

“I'm sorry. I can't tell you,” and with these stark words, Zenyatta sentenced him to helplessness.

The smaller man cast his eyes down in shame and sorrow, two emotions Genji was almost infuriated to see. Uncontrollably his thoughts slipped with more annoyance than he intended, “damn it, why? I'm right here! You are suffering and you’re telling me, of all people that I can't help? Why?”

Oh no. Like shattering a glass on the floor from a clumsy move, he ruined it all. Bitterly his heart ached at the sight as Zenyatta simply lowered his head and nodded, acknowledging Genji’s accusations and saying, doing nothing in response. He didn't have an answer. He did not respond to Genji.

His heart swelled and constricted in pain, pulled with newfound desperation. Just go, it chanted up into his mind, hands and body suddenly too alive with a force Genji couldn't name. He had to, there was no other way, the sight was unbearable like watching his beloved being in torture.

He moved without hesitation and it tensed Zenyatta up even further as he approached; yet when Genji sat beside him the sofa and without a word, turned Zenyatta’s upper body to embrace his friend into a warm and gently pulling hug, he didn't refuse. Almost unmoving yet ever so slightly leaning into his touch and letting his forehead relax on Genji’s shoulder, Zenyatta released the smallest trembling exhale the engineer had ever heard. If he couldn't tell, if he wasn't ready or it really wasn't for Genji to know… at least he could give this.

“I got you, Zenyatta. I'm here.”

Arms strained under his embrace, Zenyatta was still hugging himself and pulled the fabric of his hoodie sleeves over his fingers as if he was cold in the heated apartment. Genji held him, caressed his back a few times with his gaze unfocused somewhere mid-air above the man’s shoulder.

“It’s going to be okay,” he muttered, trying his best to be soothing.

Whatever was going on in his friend’s mind, it suddenly gave way to him slowly, ever so slowly extracting his hands from around himself and between their bodies to return the thoughtful, reassuring embrace. Zenyatta never hugged Genji by his own initiative and the man knew that; so when his friend reached around him with the most tender, fragile touches and encircled his shoulder with his arms, Genji remained so still as if it was a small, lost and petite animal was allowing him to be close.

His breathing slowed yet his heartbeat quickened and beat unhindered in his chest, especially when Zenyatta suddenly pulled at him, grabbed his shoulder and hugged him almost fiercely. He could feel the man’s shaking, unsure breathing on his neck, sobbing and whimpering in pain.

“It's going to be alright,” his own throat tightened in empathy.

That seemed to be right thing to say, yet Zenyatta’s sorrowful, quiet sobbing and his hold strengthened. By the second half of the minute he was openly tearing up into his hoodie and Genji couldn't do anything else than hold him tight as he held both of their bodies up.

“Zenya… Zenny… It's okay. Whatever it is. Everything will be alright.”

“Genji…”

“I'm here, I'm not going anywhere,” his hand absentmindedly evened the hood on Zenyatta’s back so he could press his forehead into his neck as if to further emphasise his claim.

“Genji…”

The call of his name was clawing at his very heart with the sound of his friend crying softly right next to his ear. Nothing else mattered. Genji had to fix this, even without the necessary knowledge of what happened, he had to fix this now. He couldn’t allow this to continue, let alone happen once more to his dearest friend.

Genji plead, his voice muffled by his lips halfway buried into Zenyatta’s hoodie. “Talk to me.”

“I can't.”

He begged. “I want to help, please let me. Please. Tell me.”

“Genji…” almost as in fright, the other’s fingers tightened impossibly on Genji’s shoulders.

“I'm here, I'm here,” he caressed Zenyatta’s back warmly with big swipes before deciding to reach aside and pull a blanket around his friend’s shoulders. In a few moments he managed to bundle him up and hug him once more; unsurprisingly and much to Genji’s content relief, Zenyatta accepted his arms enveloping his form and hugged him back immediately with such fierceness that he was yanked off balance for a moment.

“Genji, stay please.”

He didn’t know the depth, the meaning of the plea, yet a formerly uncharted voice in his heart spoke without any room for objection or determent. “I will. I promise. I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

Whatever it would take. A tugging ache pulled at his wrist to caress and cup the other’s jaw into his palm and he refused it. Not the right time.

“Genji, stay please.”

His voice barely above a whisper, he echoed the faint sigh. “Why can't you tell me?”

“I just can't. Just… Please, Genji.”

“Just say it. I’ll do anything.”

“Genji, don't leave me behind.”

The pure, unabashed shock caught Genji’s breath as if he’d been punched in the guts, eyes wide and throat clogged. Without further tightening his hold around Zenyatta, Genji couldn’t help the tension and caution show through the strain of his arms and shoulders.

“What…”

Twisting the pain into a split of gnawing sting in the engineer’s heart, Zenyatta still refused to meet his gaze. “Please…”

“I'd never leave you behind, holy shit. Never. Zenny. Where did.. Oh gods have mercy, what even… why…?” Now he tightened his hold around him and bit into the inside of his lip, forehead pressing into the man’s neck again since Zenyatta held him so tight in return too, he couldn’t pull away to look in the other’s eyes. “Who and what…?”

“I'm sorry.”

“For what? I'm really confused now, don't apologise for nothing.”

“I upset you.”

“Oh…” Genji had to bite back a curse. “It doesn’t matter. Who did you talk to, what did you read?” He reached aside to check the book’s cover, in an instant a tide of relief mixed with understanding washing over him. “ _Wuthering Heights?_ Zenny!”

He pulled away just to look at Zenyatta’s slightly puffy, wet eyes and couldn't help wiping them with his own sleeves, all genuine concern and tenderness in his moves.

“Come on, Zenny... You got me worried, I thought someone died! You can tell me everything, you know that. We’re here for each other, we have been for a decade and I wouldn't mind another few more.”

This had the other thinking so hard, Genji could almost hear the gears turning and snapping before Zenyatta would come back to him from the depth of his pretty mind. Finally, the deep chestnut gaze hesitantly met his eyes again with the smallest glint of well-guarded hope.

“So… Whatever happens? You promise?”

“I don't need to promise, I'd never, never leave you behind just like you wouldn't leave me. Call me selfish but I take you for granted, you’re like, in one package with me, ‘buy one, get one free’.”

The smile finally had Zenyatta allow a tiny smirk on his lips, at last some semblance of himself returning to his eyes as well.

“We go everywhere together, okay? If you go to teach somewhere else, consider me packing up with you,” Genji offered him a small, reassuring smile and leaned in to gently push at Zenyatta’s chin with his forehead as to get him into motion.

“But you like it here,” the slightly still glistening chestnut eyes looked back at him in wonder and question.

Genji went ahead and decided it for both of them. “And you do too. So we don't go anywhere.”

“No, Genji, you don't…”

“Psst, I'll bring you hot cocoa with cardamom and honey. You need it. And no _Wuthering Heights_ or any Bronte for you. Sheesh, you scared me. Why do you keep reading that if it hurts this bad? I’d understand Neruda and Coleridge but…” he gave a slight shake of his head without any intention of leaving.

His arms were comfortably warm and settled around Zenyatta’s middle and truth to be told, he didn’t feel his knees anymore from the awkward angle but it didn’t matter. Wondering if those rumours about the two of them were actually true, Genji shifted and pulled the blanket closer around the other’s form, mentally brushing the question aside. For now, his only task was to get Zenyatta warmed up and comfortable.

Zenyatta’s eyes perked up in newfound curiosity, “you read Neruda?” He asked, and Genji was more than happy to see his friend returning from a carefully guarded shell. With a playful glint in his eyes, the Japanese man squinted.

“Don't tell anyone.”

His friend was about to withdraw a hand from their embrace but Genji pulled him closer and shook his head, _no, you aren’t escaping from this_. In the end of the little tug-and-pull game of theirs, Zenyatta just ended up looking into his eyes and the engineer felt his head swim in chestnut warmth for a moment.

“I’ll take it to my grave,” the smaller man muttered, his voice a barely audible whisper between them.

“Yes, I read Neruda. And Donne, sometimes Keats and whats-her-name… Lowell? Amy?“

Without changing his expression much, only pursing his lips into a tiny pout, Zenyatta managed to look like the happiest well-fed cat ever in existence.

Genji knew what was coming next and pulled a little distance between them even if every little bit of him protested against it; Zenyatta looked significantly better and it was time to make that promise of a hot chocolate come true, “yes, I know what you’re gonna ask next. Is it really that surprising that I like poetry?”

His friend slowly let him slip away from his hold and continued on hugging the blanket around himself as he watched Genji stand and go to the kitchen. “Well, considering the first few years I could chase you across the campus with poetry books like they were feral monsters.”

“What can I say? Maybe you tried with the wrong poetry.”

“That is probably true, although if I remember correctly I gave you Neruda the first time.”

“That you did and I checked the recommendations in the end of the book.”

For a few minutes a comfortable silence settled between them during which the Japanese man prepared the promised treat and tried to come up with an idea to lighten his friend’s mood. When the idea struck, Genji smirked and affectionately shook his head at the bottle of milk with the almost inaudible whisper, “ _oh, I got it.”_

Zenyatta’s mind was so busy turning the gears in his pretty head that upon noticing it Genji had to come back and spook him into looking at him again. “hey, you wanted to watch a movie tonight. Dreamworks?”

“Oh, excuse me! Yes, yes, now I remember, thank you that sounds lovely,” there there, the engineer’s heart warmed pleasantly at the sight of his friend finally smiling and wiping his eyes for one last time. “How about something that you might also like? Treasure Planet? That’s Disney though.”

His reply was a playful wink, “oh, cyborgs and self-discovery? Sign me up.”

. . .

Whatever his logical thinking might have tried to convince him with, Genji was more than sure that it wasn’t the book that upset his dear friend. It was something else, some kind of hurt coming from somewhere deep where even he wasn’t allowed to look.

“I’ve got my eye on you,” he murmured to a fast sleep Zenyatta on the other end of the couch. Genji’s eyebrows almost darkly united in a frown.

He shifted closer, letting his knuckles brush with possessive care along a blanket covered knee. “Like it or not, I’ll be watching out for you from now on. Nothing will cross me, no one will hurt you. I won’t allow it,” he stated, his voice low and cutting as if he’d announced the march into war. “I have you, the way you have me. We are in this together.”

 

 

I turned myself into an umbrella

To protect you from the rain

But even though you were dry

You still felt the pain

  
Sophia The Local Dreame [ r ](http://hellopoetry.com/TheMostOptimisticPessimist/) \- Umbrella

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goodness! I hope I managed to make you feel something. :3 Please let me know what you think, how did you like it? If it helps, I had to stop and cry multiple times when I wrote it too. I was tempted to write TLDR as chapter summary. I'm always afraid I'll scare you off with chapter summaries. My apologies.


	7. Dragons Collide 1.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even Genji has his own shadow lurking behind his back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is made of three parts, this is the first. Needless to say, I'm very excited to see your feedback!!

With Zenyatta’s semester continuing after the autumn break, it was now Genji’s turn to stay at home and enjoy the long mornings spent in bed while drinking coffee. If he liked one thing in his line of profession it was the occasional yet regular breaks like these when he was actually encouraged to take it easy and relax before the job got hectic again. From that week, the final showdown would begin with assignments, final tests and more deadlines pouring at his way. 

Genji found it very easy to get used to Zenyatta’s cozy guest room and the perks of having his best friend within an arm’s reach. Their trips down the memory lane usually involved recalling a lot of fond moments and laughing at their foolish youth time and time again, especially when Genji had the two years period of the green hair thanks to his peerless attitude of never looking back, living for the moment. He remembered organizing road trips up to the Arctic Circle every year and dragging Zenyatta along just to see the Santa village, which later evolved to field trips with his students to drop by at the university just a few hundred kilometers south of that, as an excuse to get the funding from the department. He’d always had a talent to coax and charm money from Morrison, especially when he pulled the “field trip for students” card.

Somewhere along the way organizing a trip for this year slipped his mind completely and the realization that it was already November came to him when Zenyatta apologised to the desk calendar and tore the October page off. Stifling a laugh, Genji suddenly wanted to go and hug this gentle and impossibly kind creature called Zenyatta Tekhartha but his mind was too quick and the upcoming deadline pulled a stop to all his thoughts. 

Sneakily the ninja climbed off the couch and tiptoed his way to his friend to lean his chin on his shoulder; the move apparently made Zenyatta freeze on his spot for a moment before he turned his head to the side and attempted to look at him with a questioning eyebrow.

“Genji?”

The man pulled his best set of puppy eyes. “Zenny can you check my article?” 

“Well, I suppose I can.”

“Syntax and stuff. Do your language magic.”

“Of course.”

“I’ll cook.”

“A-as you wish.”

The hesitant glint in Zenyatta’s eyes told him everything so when Genji let the other go he raised his hands in a gesture as if he’d be taking an oath, “I give you my word as Shimada that I’ll follow the recipe word by word.”

This seemed to calm his friend a tiny bit, fidgeting hands turning Genji’s laptop on, yet it was evident that Zenyatta’s feathers were ruffled, “I don’t mind when you experiment.”

“It’ll be good this time, I promise.”

An hour later, when he was done frying the chicken fillets and added the vegetable mix to it, Zenyatta appeared by his side and looked him in the eye, still quite unsure yet gentle as he simply said, “Genji you’re not a Shimada anymore, you were disowned.”

The engineer couldn’t help but raise the wooden fork as if it’d help him with the nonchalant wave, “yes, so?”

“Since your name is still Shimada, does that mean you’ll make a new Shimada clan?”

The question caught Genji completely off-guard and for several moments of speechless sputtering, mouth often agape, he finally ended up saying with his throat impossibly dry and tight from embarrassment, “hell, no way, no! Dude, what the-- no!”

“So that means your oath about following the recipe is,” Zenyatta raised an index finger as if he’d found a solution to a difficult equation, “foundationless.”

“Oooh,” Genji said as the vowel stretched with a mischievous grin spreading across his lips, “the linguist strikes again, I see.”

“I’m just clarifying the facts. And corrected most of the things in your writing, there wasn’t much.”

“That’s some good news beside the gentle reminder of me not having my own family.”

Genji’s joke backfired so badly that Zenyatta froze again and visibly shuddered. In an instant he began blabbering apologies and blamed himself for being so inconsiderate. Calming words from Genji didn’t seem to reach the smaller man so the engineer ended up placing the wooden spoon aside and wrapped his arms around his friend in a big bear hug, repeating himself over and over again until Zenyatta’s heart slowed and his trembling subsided.

Genji should’ve known better than make a joke about this to someone who valued family and love above anything else. 

“My brother will come for Christmas,” Zenyatta mumbled shortly after Genji released him and stirred their soon-to-be dinner. “And it would be nice if you spent the break with us.”

“That’s very kind of you, Zenyatta but you don’t have to…”

“I know it sounds like I’m offering it out of politeness but I mean it. I’d-- we’d like you to be with us.”

“You’d miss my culinary skills.”

The unimpressed, judging look Zenyatta gave him had Genji scratch the back of his neck and cough. Times like these his friend didn’t need word; his unmoving stance and gaze told more.

“Thank you, thank you Zenny. It’d be nice to see Mondatta again.”

“I’m sure he’ll be pleased to see you too.”

The two easily slipped back into the comfortable routine of preparing for dinner; Zenyatta set the table and Genji finished the preparation of their food. The thought was gently buzzing in the back of Genji’s mind like an insistent spark waiting for the right time to be acknowledged; how come it’d be Mondatta visiting this time? He’d met Zenyatta’s brother multiple times and knew him as the older, kinda sassier replica of his friend but it’d be the second winter that Zenyatta’s mom would stay in Nepal. 

Last year his friend mentioned that his mother wasn’t in the condition to take on long journeys… Genji wondered if the lovely old lady would be ill or… 

“Zen,” his tongue worked faster than his brain and by the time he came to his senses, the question almost slip through; the other was looking expectantly at him, expressive chestnut brown eyes blinking back. No, Genji’s mind reasoned, if there was something wrong, Zenyatta would share the news but… he couldn’t help but frown, mentally noting that Zenyatta’d already asked if there was something wrong. 

Was he going to intrude if he just asked? Was Zenyatta’d mother ill or too old to fly? Did this mean Zenyatta’d have to travel home every time he wished to see his own mother? Was that why it was Mondatta coming for the second time in a row?

Fly across the globe to see one’s mother. A thought which somehow still managed to claw its way through his tough shell and stab him right in his heart. 

Genji hadn’t seen his own mother in eight years now. 

His memory searched frantically for images, voices and sensations as his fingers involuntarily placed the fork back on the table while for several moments his own senses seemed to zone out, excluding voices, the sight in front of him. His mother passing her mid-fifties… she must have been getting wrinkles, her peerlessly gorgeous mahogany hair gaining more silver along the way. When she smiled, Genji felt the whole world be a better place. 

His mind faintly registered Zenyatta’s warm hand slowly, unsurely touching his shoulder.

His mother. Sheltering him from the storms of life, worrying and loving unconditionally. No matter what Genji did, what and who he’d become.

Squeezing his eyes tightly shut and straining his jaw to stifle the tremble running through his throat, he felt Zenyatta’s fingers smooth down his arm and wrap around his wrist; tension had clenched it into a fist.  

“Genji…”

He couldn’t trust his own voice even though he couldn’t stop the words spilling from his lips. “Why… why isn’t your Mom coming to visit?”

“Oh. She wanted to, but she has to stay for this winter. She participates in the celebrations this year more actively than before, you see… lots of tourists around that time of the year… But if I had known you wished to see her, I'm sure she would love to Skype with you…”

His trembling seemed to have quieted after he took a deep breath. 

“Tell me, Genji.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose as if he had a headache. There was no point in hiding anything from this man, he realized and turned his head to face him with another ragged, almost painful sigh. 

“I don’t know what’s going on,” he began. “Last week I was thinking about my brother, now it’s my mother, they are haunting me. Feels like something’s going on over there but I can’t...” 

His frown and quickly wandering eyes were soon focused on the chain of prayer beads placed in front of him and Zenyatta holding his wrist once more in a gentle, anchoring manner. His fingers noticed the sensation of the beads, reflexively turning them one by one, the thread beneath them carrying along the flow with the play of his thumb. Genji’s eyes focused on the tiny, carved wooden pearls and corrected his hand’s position to hold the lace as he was supposed to. The words of the mantra Zenyatta had taught to him climbed into his conscious as if they’d been somewhere deep on the bottom of the sea, now diving up to the surface with the deep and tranquilizing guidance his friend began.

“Slowly. Breath deeply. Let the air reach down to the bottom of your lungs, let it be your anchor. You have nothing to take care of now.”

The air seemed to cool around them, a soothing reminder of their whereabouts and what they were about to do just a few minutes go; gradually it came back to him.

“Slower, Genji. This mala only has twenty-seven beads, it’s the one I keep for you. You know this one, you’ve done this before. Keep breathing deeply and slow your mind. There is nothing to worry about now. You’re here with me, and you feel the safety of this place surround you. Slowly. Breath deeply. When I see you’re calm enough we’ll say the lines together. Nothing is more important than you being here now. Slowly, gently let the air fill you, let the beads guide your touch. Keep breathing, focus on the sensation. I’ll get my mala.”

Sometimes Genji wondered if Zenyatta was the only person who’d genuinely wanted to help him no matter the time or space. He wondered if he was good enough to do the same in return.

. . .

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of part one.


	8. Dragons Collide 2.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now entering, Hanzo Shimada. CEO of the Shimada Corporations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains philosophy, and due to the nature of the characters, I did not hold back nor did any simplification during the editing process.

Key turning, door handle down and pushed. 

Genji's mind was strangely empty behind the solemn expression, heart heavy with the same sadness every time he had to leave Zenyatta’s home. As if he had forgotten something important, a missing piece in the equation way too important to ignore, a formula which somehow deterred his thinking and obscured his focus.

The duffle bag hit the ground with a thud and Genji mechanically shrugged his coat off. Upon hanging it and pushing the bag aside he took a few steps ahead in the kitchen’s direction.

The air was different. It was supposed to be stale. His eyes scanned the entrance and now he spotted the extra, foreign pair of black oxford shoes, immaculate as if there wasn’t any downpour outside, not a drop of rain on the pavements across the down. He should’ve known. 

His entire figure froze on the spot.  _ Tsk. _ Again, he walked into it. 

And yet, the only source of light was the weak, electric white-blue neon coming from the kitchen wall.

Clearing his mind to focus on his senses, Genji let his ears, vision and nose detect more information. His breathing slowed according to the training which kicked in with lightning speed as expected. 

It was a matter of time now.

Shoulders straight and down, right arm bent and pulled sharply to the side at his middle, with a fist turned upwards and ready to block, Genji’s eyes scanned the place in an instant as he turned in the corridor. His glare pinned at the figure casually sitting at his table, at the laidback, inscrutable dragon in the skin of his brother. 

Neither of them spoke for so long, Genji released a dissatisfied huff through his nose.  _ Come on, let’s begin. _

It only took a moment.

When Hanzo’s eyes finally landed on him, Genji felt his world come apart in a white, electric blue fire around him. The light of the neon obscured half his and his brother’s frame but it was in the glint of an eye that he saw his entire being offered on the silvery plate of Hanzo’s cutting, raw and yet purifying gaze. No compromises. No delusions.

His brother sat gracefully with an arm draped over in his lap and his legs crossed, as if he was taunting Genji with his gaze to utter a word Hanzo didn’t have the patience to even hear.

And yet, the younger Shimada decided against his frigidly protesting intuition.

“Hanzo.”

At the mention of the name his brother blinked in acknowledgement but otherwise remained unmoving. 

His coarse, dangerously casual voice struck deeply buried chords in Genji’s very soul, ringing down his spine. “It’s been awhile since I was here.”

“Tea?”

The diminutive nod of Hanzo’s chin was the only reply he got. Mechanically Genji stepped in front of the sink and began to prepare tea for two, brows in a tight line and his senses still hyper aware of the man sitting at the table in a midnight blue three-piece suit. The same person who he had spent the first twenty years of his life with. The same person who needn't even raise his voice to command an entire corporate empire yet made the journey in the middle of the night between his flights to see him.

“How much time do we have?”

Hanzo’s tired, momentarily peaceful gaze wandered up to the ceiling for a few moments as he mentally counted, “five, six hours.”

His heart clenched at the reply.  _ So short.  _ “Hungry?”

The younger one felt the gaze of his guest everywhere on him at once; the sensation lurked alarmingly in the back of his mind and the nape of his neck as he reached for the box of tea leaves and went on with his almost meticulous task. Still unmoving and yet very much alive through the glisten of his eyes, Hanzo took a deep breath which slightly trembled in the end.

“Not this time, thank you,” his voice was the usual, deep and measured; not a single stray fragment of emotion slipping through. The dragon’s thick guise was still heavily infused within him and Genji’s heart ached to admit there was never enough time to fully extract Hanzo from beneath.

While the leaves sank and soaked in the boiling water, Genji swallowed around the tightness in his throat as his hands gripped the edge of the counter. For several moments bleeding into a minute the only sounds between them were the rhythmical ticks of the clock on the wall and the outside downpour gently tapping on the windowpanes.

“So, how have you been?” If he hadn’t known his brother better, Genji would have thought the line to be borderline cynical. Hearing it from Hanzo it sounded way too simple, banal even. Casual discussions were beneath him. His own breathing seemed to even, still not facing his brother.

“Spent the autumn break at Zenyatta’s place.”

“I know.”

…  _ of course he did _ , Genji resisted the urge to roll his eyes even without Hanzo seeing the gesture.

“It’s been alright. I’ve been to Copenhagen on a conference and the new article is coming along great. This semester is somehow calmer than the previous autumns,” finally turning to see his guest, the engineer leant back on the counter with his palms gripping the edge. From across the table, Hanzo’s eyes swept over him again and only by a slightly longer blink of his gaze did Genji know he had heard him.

Like a dormant, barely moving image of a man, somewhere in there, a living, breathing human was encapsulated and Genji couldn’t drag his mind away from the fact. The terror gripping his ribcage was nothing more than the memory of what kind of fierce fury burned all bridges between them. The faint memory of Zenyatta’s voice returned to him: Hanzo no longer meant to leash and chain him.

And yet, here they were now. Five hours and he’d be gone again for another half a year or more. 

The thoroughly exhausted yet short sigh coming from the man gripped his attention sharper than Genji had expected; his own eyes snapped back at the figure and finally the initial haze began to evaporate. Hanzo was here. Truly; with extra silver lines along his temple and fatigue painting dark swipes underneath his eyes but otherwise, it was Hanzo himself, as he had always been.

“Brother,” the word slipped involuntarily between them; a plea and call in one word.

Finally moving, Hanzo’s head tilted to the left and hence his gaze remained hooded, the burning adoration and unabashed longing in there froze Genji onto his spot. There, from the stoneflesh of the dragon, he plead with his eyes and almost inaudibly sighed,

“You’re still wary of me?”

The sentence shattered Genji’s heart and inhibitions. Instinctively his hand reached to pull the other chair out and sit to reach out and grab, steal Hanzo’s hand from his lap and hold it warmly between his palms. His brother’s eyes continued to soak in his appearance, second by second shredding the guise away as affection was pouring out of his gaze.

“You’ve come, Hanzo.”

“Genji,” the name crossed the man’s lips like a prayer. “So long.”

“Hanzo, you’re here.”

Fatigue dripped into his sigh but at least Hanzo confirmed, “Finland, of all places.”

“Yes, you’re here with me,” the realization pulled a quick smile across Genji’s features, encouraging the sensation to settle in. “Hanzo, how have you been, what have you been doing?”

A thumb swiped across his palm, as if Hanzo would test if Genji was an apparition or physically, truly there, “the usual. This and that.”

“How is everyone?”

The older Shimada’s gaze hardened for a moment, “why do you intend to remind me of them…?” The low growl came like a warning before the man tamed his tone once more, “and yet, you still ask, after all these years… they truly did not deserve you.”

“Hanzo, how is mother? Is she alright?”

“Yes… she is.”

These few words finally let a chord in Genji’s heart rest. 

“Hanzo, I’m…” 

“The elders expressed their growing discontent at me still not grasping the true meaning of being the leader of the Shimada.”

Whatever thoughts circled in Genji’s mind, they vanished as raw perplexity settled in.

“How? You do nothing else than…”

“I hardly think of anything else than the company and the hundreds of imbeciles involved. See…” with an elegant wave of his other hand, Hanzo gave a smile cold and empty as a crypt. “It doesn’t matter. In the end, all that matters is the continuation of the cycle.”

“That is their delusion.” Genji disapprovingly shook his head; like the dragons chasing each other’s tails they were back where they’d always end up. The clan elders and their tight grip choking even death out of his brother. 

Hanzo scoffed so quietly, for a moment Genji believed it to be his breathing but his brother’s eyes glanced down at his own lap.

“Their illusion is my reality. Whatever they imagine, it is me embodying it.”

“Hanzo, their illusion only exists if you allow it. Only you can put a stop to--”

“We’ve talked about this.” It was in the glint of his eyes, raw determination. Hanzo went on. “The simplest concepts of correct and wrong are mere questions of perspective, this you’ve told me and yet I found no answer to the origins of one’s conceptions of reality. Where does it truly begin? What you say, what you do, those define you not the way you think. Your mind may rebel but it matters not if your actions cannot follow.”

The younger brother’s hold grew firm around the now limp hand. Genji couldn’t allow this to continue any longer; his own sibling was being dogmatically slaughtered inside his own skin and soul. While he had escaped just in the right time, Hanzo remained caged and manipulated to the edge of his perceived reality.

Hanzo’s voice finally allowed pure, yet well measured sentiments dribble into his speech as he began counting on his fingers with his free hand.

“I’m obsessed with the company, obsessed with our honor, dignity and reputation as it is natural to a person in my position. Obsessed with the clan, all the meaningless compulsions when my own life lies gutted and chained at my feet. It lead me to fear facing whatever is outside the reality of my perception. Yet it keeps flowing by in front of me, day by day, taking my life from me like sand flowing through my fingers. Genji, tell me which one is true? The one reality I live each day, the projection of the mind I delude myself with and call it everyday routine with all the arranged breathes I take; or the one you keep taunting me with? Freedom of choice, which was not destined to be mine from the beginning?”

Heart agitatedly hammering in his ribcage, Genji resisted the urge to press a finger to his aching forehead; the force of his frown strained the spot between his eyebrows. 

“You have to remember, Hanzo! Even our father said to warn us; judgement is passed on you by weak minds swallowed up in pride and vanity. Their refusal at facing truth will be their undoing, Hanzo. Their ideals forced on you do not belong to this world any longer. What you allow to be done to yourself is only up to you!”

Hanzo’s eyes flashed with dignified ire, “and yet it is me who is being told, your worthlessness is ultimately becoming my only weakness, still even today.”

By now Hanzo finally straightened his posture and his regal demeanor had shifted into a troubled, insistent stance as his fingers wrapped tightly around Genji’s wrist. Their gazes locked for several moments until the younger man found his voice once more.

“Why you fail to measure your own limits eludes me. There is so much awaiting you.”

“There is nothing waiting for me, nobody other than you. I may return to known places but the preconceptions of me waiting there exclude all possible chances to live who I am, who I would be. They only see a symbol, an idea. A concept of a leader, which was formed by their deluded minds about a man who somewhere along the way ceased to be one,” Hanzo’s eyes narrowed in deeply coiling resentment as he leant back and blinked a few times. “The tea, Genji.”

“I don’t care.”

“So why is there any point? There is always an end after all.”

Genji felt bewilderment run through his spine as if some intangible scales would harden and stand tall on his back, “Hanzo Shimada knows his own weaknesses without some elder to tell him, he is not a coward.”

“Are  _ you _ calling me a coward?” 

In a quick flash, the endless pit of the dragon’s eyes snapped at him but failed to pin him down. Instead, it was Genji who firmly held Hanzo’s wrist now against the tabletop with his own eyes flaring, whole body tense and coiling like a viper ready to strike.

Hanzo’s glare bore into him, distant and scorching.

“Hanzo, you’ll always be my brother and you know that very well. If I’m your weakness, if that’s what they tell you, then forgive me and yourself for allowing it so.”

“ _ Tsk _ , you know nothing of what happens these days, when I return. They say by letting you go I failed to acknowledge the one flaw that would always bring me sorrow and abandonment.”

“Acknowledge the one flaw which would have helped you accomplish all that you’d otherwise miss or wouldn’t reach?” Genji’s eyes flared with newfound anger. “My intention was to stand by your side but on my own terms, not on some self-proclaimed god’s conditions, spitting judgement from a distance. You knew from the beginning what letting me go would bring to you.”

For a moment, Hanzo was silent with his gaze averted into the empty void ahead of himself. 

“It unleashed hell. You left me there to be devoured by them.”

“Damn it! When will you see? Have they taken your very eyes? Did they carve your very spine out of you?” Impulsions leading, the younger man nearly yelled. “And you let them do it! Who is the master of the dragon now, who is the one defining the only reality to be taken for granted? Look around, see through my eyes now and tell me what you see! Me living in a small town where people live their lives in their own perceived reality, a system of beliefs and illusions about an order they call society,” he poked the tabletop with his free index finger in emphasis, yes locked in Hanzo’s iron tight gaze. 

_ Good _ , Genji thought,  _ now he’s listening. _

“They choose to live by dogmatic and unspoken rules which may be written down but they never read a word of that; they just accept the projection of vague concepts, financial safety and a simple life in peace! The very thing you yearn for!”

Hanzo’s eyes couldn’t contain the raging inferno burning within, yet with his tongue stuck the man let his brother go on. 

“And the ordinary people,  _ they  _ were all also programmed to live it from the early stages of their lives, through systematically structured order of codes to live by just like the credo you follow! Their reality may be an illusion to detain their curiosity to venture and find where the truth lies beneath, but it is all the same. Your sight is just as obscured as the ones’ you look down upon. You fail to acknowledge your weakness and that is why the council uses it against you; you haven’t forgiven yourself for letting me go and they still continue to stab you with the same blade in the same wound, bleeding you dry until you stop them!”

“And what would I gain from seeing my true nature beneath all? Allowing weakness to be visible is admitting defeat.”

“No, not if you know how to use it for your advantage. By admitting our bond you would find true strength, without the delusions of pride or vanity. The cycle would be broken and their order based on vague concepts would fall apart.”

“It isn’t that simple, Genji! Haven't you forgotten that you are dead to them?”

“It does not matter! This isn't about the council, Hanzo! It never was. Have you ever wondered how I found balance and harmony after all the hatred and grudges I held against everything that defined both of us?”

The dragon’s gaze intensified as his temper flared up again.

“Don’t you dare lecture me about balance or harmony when you left everything behind and left me to deal with your absence! Your course of action was which led both of us here!”

“And yet it is me who isn’t alone any longer while you still suffer from decades long wounds and are still subjected to tend to them all on your own!” As his words reached his conscience, Genji took a steadying breath to rein his impulses under his control. When he spoke, his voice was even and carried the air of a man having had enough of walking around the subject.

“Your words have no effect on me for I’ve accepted what I am. And my imperfections mean nothing to me, when I have someone to make sure I don’t miss any of the things I can still reach and achieve on my own. And I try to do my very damn best to do the same in return,” lungs still heaving slowly from the fierceness of their interaction, Genji’s shoulders shifted back in a confident, straight line. “A lonely dragon is the easiest prey, father used to say. Your strength means nothing if you can’t acknowledge the balance with your own faults and keep them close to you. Facing them and forgiving yourself would finally bring you peace.”

Hanzo’s left eye squinted in unmasked curiosity, “a companion, you say? Don’t be ridiculous, are you going to lecture me with this now?”

“If I want to remember who I am, who I want to be, I only have to think about the person he sees when he looks at me.”

That struck a nerve; Hanzo snarled like an angered serpent, “so by whose illusions do you continue to live by, exactly? The image, a mirage in the mind of a friend of yours? Why do you always settle with less?”

“Because there is no such thing as perfection when it comes to humans, Hanzo. We were not meant to be solitary, so our flaws would become another’s strength and find the balance in our souls.”

“Wait,” at once, the other’s gaze dropped the coiling rage and Hanzo tilted his head on the right in sudden uncertainty mixed with interest, “a companion like that, you mean Zenyatta or someone else?”

“There is no one else.”

Hanzo took an exhausted, deep breath as if the world’s burdens would return to his shoulders; with his free hand he even covered his eyes for a few moments until Genji went ahead and asked with almost childish curiosity glinting in his eyes, “why do you ask?”

“How will I tell this to our mother…”

“Well, just don’t?”

The realization hit Genji’s mind not a second later, “wait, she asks about me?”

Biting back sharply, Hanzo scowled as if Genji would question the color of the sky.

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course she does! What did you think? You are her child.”

In the suddenly awkward silence the continuous tick of the clock set Genji’s thoughts on fire, reeling in his mind like horses on a way too fast carousel. Not a word was muttered between them and by the time Genji realized what Hanzo truly meant by his question it was too late; his brother glared at him as if this interlude didn’t happen at all.

“Anyway.”

Genji echoed the expression, “anyway.”

“So in the end all you do is look up to a preconceived image born in  _ his _ mind and live up to those expectations? How is that any different if the basic principles of the very idea are the same? If perfection is just another lense in the system through which they construct the ideal of me and you construct the ideal of yourself through his ideals?”

“Don’t change the subject, Hanzo! The difference is that I had a choice and you deny that from yourself on purpose! It is still not late to change that. You gave me a choice and yet...”

“ _ Tsk _ , not too late, you say? How old am I, Genji?”

“It’s never too late, Hanzo!” His hold loosened and he caressed a thumb across Hanzo’s wrist but the gesture was rejected as the man instantly tried to pull his hand away and failed. Genji’s grip became firm once more as his brother began to speak, as if he’d be telling a tale with a bitter ending. 

“You were lucky to get away just in time before it all came crashing down. You left and it all fell to me because I was weak, you made me weak and I let you go. I gave you a chance at the cost of my own free will and having any influence over my own life. I cannot forgive myself for the last decade, the wasted time of my life that I’ll never get back no matter what comes next, even if I would find this harmony you speak of. And yet when I see you live the life you wished for, it all seems to be worth it.”

The electric-blue light flickered above the counter. Genji refused to let his heart to take control, in silent grief he let it crack and bleed openly in his chest before he hardened it once more.

“I will never forgive you if you fail yourself, Hanzo. Not the council… yourself. They are beyond redemption but you are not.”

The air stilled between them and for once their riled up auras seemed to calm a little. Hanzo’s gaze wandered around the opening to Genji’s untouched bedroom and the scattered pieces of robots covering the floor in his home-office as if that’d be the most important task at that moment. To his brother, seeing this and witnessing a tiny bit of Genji’s mundane civilian life was indeed very important, Genji supposed. 

Deep down, he knew Hanzo was waging a desperate war against everything that he still had to stand for and was bred and groomed to maintain. One did not simply abandon the fundamental principles their lives were constructed upon, even if it would ultimately lead to their ruin.

“Speak of something else, now,” the older Shimada leant back in the chair. “I’ll think about your words later, I’m too tired to go into conclusions.”

“I was hoping that you’d listen this time. Carrying your burdens alone is not strength, it’s your own illusion to conceal your fear of loneliness.”

“Who taught you to use big words?”

“The one who taught me to listen to other voices than solely my own.”

“That is so unlike you, I’ll only believe it if I see it with my own eyes.”

A self-certain smirk appeared on Genji’s lips as he winked, “you should see me when he’s around, I’m so calm you wouldn’t recognise me.”

Hanzo’s calculating gaze swept over him again as if his mind indeed conjured an image of a calm Genji, “no, that’d be horrifying.”

“Oh and, I’m not together with Zenyatta. I forgot to correct that, Mother is not in need of a pacemaker just yet.”

“Just yet? How so?” 

The playful glint in Hanzo’s eyes and his mirroring of a tiny wink had gotten Genji momentarily speechless and against his mental protests his cheek began to color, “stop, Hanzo, you’re not funny.”

The deep, dark rumble of the man’s chest was like hearing a divine predator imitate laughing, “oh yes, I am. Now who’s the one living in illusions?”

“You know nothing about…” Genji couldn’t finish the sentence because Hanzo looked at him with a raised eyebrow and all his words dried in his throat and if that wasn’t bad enough, the reddening of his cheeks also finished painting his skin bright red. 

“You didn’t only get fat and lazy, you lecture me about delusions when you so vehemently keep yourself in one? Who is the coward now?”

Genji grit his teeth and pouted, his controlled emotions were alone a miracle, the face he made was another.

“You can stop nitpicking at my private life, and I’m  _ not. Fat _ .”

“What’s this, then?” Faster than the people Genji had gotten used to, Hanzo poked him in the tummy and laughed lowly as his brother made a truly offended face.

“I’m sitting Hanzo! And during my work I’m mostly sitting and standing too, there isn’t much time for training anymore. Not since I’ve begun teaching too, anyway,” he finished off with the admittance, he indeed hadn’t been to a proper dojo in more than a year.

“Your home office is also mess.”

“I’m working on an article now, it’s in collab with Miss Ziegler, there is no time--”

“There is always time for your robots.”

Genji raised a warning index-finger at his brother, “hey, the robots are off-limits even to you!”

Hanzo’s smile grew and Genji felt his heart constrict and swell in a whole range of emotions yet his eyes couldn’t memorise the so rare phenomenon fast enough. Hanzo was smiling, at him nonetheless, his scolding done as a gesture of endearment. 

“This little sparrow flew so high he forgot the way down,” he trilled on a voice which sent sweet, nostalgic affection dance in Genji’s heart as if Hanzo was reciting a children’s rhyme with a diminutive smile growing on his lips. In other circumstances this would have frozen the blood in people but right now in that very moment Genji saw no remnant of the dragon any longer. This was Hanzo and his eyes bathed his little brother in warmth.“It’s good to see you, Genji.”

Now that they had conducted their usual arguments the brothers finally saw eye-to-eye. As if Hanzo needed to shred the scales of his leader persona by venting about philosophy with his little brother, now he sat in a more relaxed position with his shoulders slack and finally Genji could actually hear his breathing. He didn’t need to mask it under the image of an untouchable ideal. Genji didn’t fall for that any longer. 

The younger Shimada’s ribcage painfully constricted at the myriad of thoughts threatening to spill.  _ I missed you, Hanzo. Stay here, Hanzo. Meet my friend, Hanzo. He can help you they way he helped me. There is so much we’ve missed out. Don’t leave again. _

“Tea?”

Hanzo lifted his other hand and placed it warmly on top of Genji’s the way one gently brushes the fingertips across a treasured, cherished object of affection. Finally, his brother had arrived outside of the dragon’s hide, to meet him halfway. 

“Yes. Thank you.”

_ Forgive me. There’s never enough time _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am eagerly awaiting your reactions! What do you think of him?


	9. Dragons Collide 3.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All the impact that Hanzo had on Genji is left to be dealt with by Genji himself and Zenyatta. Some things never change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last installment of this story-arc.

Genji remembered trotting down the long stairway leading to the frozen pit of hell of a  bridge but his thoughts and senses only seemed to return when he was already sitting in the canteen located in Zenyatta’s building, a cup of coffee latte in front of him and a smiling, content friend sitting by his side. Zenyatta wore a large black scarf which covered his shoulders and his neck entirely up to his chin; Genji thought he looked like a neckless spot of smiles with hands radiating happiness.

He spaced out.

Sentences and phrases echoed in the blurred memories of their talk with Hanzo.

“ _ The very thing you yearn for _ ” he remembered saying. Quiet, domestic life with financial stability. Was he being rude to his brother? Did he yank at the chains too roughly?

Zenyatta sipped from his tea and placed the cup down with his gentle hands. The comfortable, content silence between them stretched further on and Genji knew his friend was patiently waiting for him to begin. One day Genji was his usual energetic and positive self and the next when they met, troubled lines were running across his forehead and fatigue painted his eyes dark and baggy. 

“ _ Hanzo visited last night _ ,” he finally mumbled between them in Japanese so the other students or colleagues present wouldn't understand.

At first, Zenyatta’s reply confused him to no end. “ _ Oh. That's very kind of him. _ ”

For a few moments Genji took his time to digest and decipher what Zenyatta meant by that. Indeed, Hanzo had made the journey to Helsinki first, then took a rented car and drove up to their town only to see him… and then back to Helsinki by five in the morning. His flight left at seven.

Seven at clock had found Genji gazing out of the window of his apartment with a warm cup of tea being the only source of heat around him. His brother’s voice still echoing in his ears and mind like lively recordings of an old gramophone.

Before they parted, Hanzo had brushed his fingers affectionately through Genji’s hair and told him to carry on with his “worthlessness” for it meant more to Hanzo than anything the corporation could give him. He gave his word to visit during the spring.

“ _ How is he? _ ”

“ _ Badly _ ,” the word slipped before Genji noticed it.

“ _ Did he listen? _ ”

“ _ He did, this time… But asked for patience. He will think about it _ .”

“ _ I'm glad. You did your part once more, Genji. Now it is up to him _ .”

“ _ It wasn't that harsh this time. He was tired like always but he didn't put up such a huge fight like last time. He was very exhausted… We had five hours and he slept through the last three before he had to leave. _ ”

“ _ You made sure he got some rest. You did well _ .”

“ _ I hope. _ ”

“Hey, English please when we are around!”

“Sorry, Lena. This couldn't wait.”

“Ah, I'm just teasing. Genji, are you gonna come for the meeting next week? Would be nice if there'd be more people from other departments too!” She winked as if Genji was supposed to know some hidden reference but the engineer just innocently blinked back at her.

“What meeting? Yes. When and where?”

“This building in our office hall, next week Wednesday four pm.”

“I guess I can make it.”

“Sweet! If Mr. Morrison is in, it'd be lovely if he came too.”

“I'll make sure Reyes gets the memo.”

Lena sent her a utterly unimpressed, judging look that resulted in pleasant laugh from Genji, “so funny, so very funny, Genji. Reyes and Christmas parties go so well.”

“I think he would like to be invited nonetheless,” Zenyatta’s calm almost humming voice informed them. “We should treat him with the same kindness like we would treat everyone else. He is no different from us after all.”

“Well, aside from the death grip he holds on us during the exam periods… and sends our project proposals back with more red than the Communist Manifesto...”

“He only means well,” his Nepalese friend even raised a hand to wave in an offering motion. “He wants you to perform to your highest potential and doesn’t go easy on you; if he did, that’d mean he doesn’t care and would just want to get rid of you. The ones who he cares about the most are the ones he has the highest expectation for, those are the ones getting into the crossfire.”

Lena’s mouth opened in awe, “well, that puts it into perspective.”

Genji grinned. “Zenyatta you never told me about your psychology degree. I feel so betrayed now.”

“Ah--I just? I was thinking about his methods as a senior professor for a long time now, I mean I had years to understand his reasons--”

“Just kidding, dude. I know you have gods’ tier people skills.”

. . .

 

Zenyatta was aware that to the others Genji seemed completely fine, like his usual self. He was actively participating in the faculty’s life and received good feedback from his students after three of them completed their thesis papers right in time. He seemed to have regained his focus and made significant progress with his article for the upcoming publication; by mid-November as it was originally planned, he submitted the final manuscript to Morrison and Reyes and awaited judgement to be passed.

Zenyatta wasn’t convinced, however. His friend wasn’t prone to spacing out when someone was directly talking to him but the most startling symptom was Genji not enjoying tinkering with his robots anymore. As a test Zenyatta even offered to take Genji downtown to a professional model toy shop and browse until he’d found the right helicopter or tank model but the man turned the offer down. Instead the Japanese man stacked his robots into a corner in his home office and to blow some steam off, began visiting a dojo on the other side of the town. Watching him from a respectful distance, Zenyatta meditated for many hours for days on end to finally find the cause of this sudden change and became convinced that it was the meeting with his brother which had shaken Genji up so badly. 

As if it wasn’t obvious, he mentally rolled his eyes at the discovery but his intuition did not let him rest until he’d dwelled deeper into the problem at hand. From what little Genji had shared with him the Nepalese scholar placed one half of the puzzle together and contemplated on the other half for so long his head began to hurt. 

After receiving a text from Genji,  _ ‘need some time off’,  _ Zenyatta frowned and called his friend to arrange a meeting with him. Even if it did go against Zenyatta’s usual ways and he mentally prepared himself for a collision between them, he remained determined to reach out and stop Genji from closing himself in.

He’d expected Genji to brush him off, to remind him of the text from earlier and ask for some privacy. Even though Zenyatta did go against Genji’s request, the man thanked him for staying true to himself with a sad yet endearing smile in his voice. He reminded Zenyatta that it was always these times when he realized, his own life was not a series of ones and zeroes any longer. With freedom came a whole lot of overwhelming platforms of choices, decisions that he had to make day by day without the watchful eyes and safety of the family standing right behind him. 

On the night of their talk, uncharacteristically so, Zenyatta placed his warm hand on his friend’s shoulder as their accompanying teacups cooled on the table between them. 

“Perhaps what you and I call ‘family’ are two different things,” he offered.

“Indeed,” Genji answered, gaze still heavy with mourning and the sullen reminder of helplessness when it came to his brother. “I really envy you sometimes for all the love, support and happiness you grew up with, with so many siblings around… then of course, it’s a matter of perspective isn’t it?”

“No, I don’t think so. This isn’t so complicated,” the literary scholar hummed, voice gently vibrating in his chest. “Remember that I told you, family isn’t bound by blood. I still believe it to be true.”

The thought had Genji contemplate for several moments on it as he continued to stir the tea in his cup. A shudder ran down his spine not long after, as if some sort of tension was leaving his body and Zenyatta tilted his head to the left in curiosity, knowing that his friend had more than enough to wrap his head around. It was never easy when it came to a Shimada and listening to others; Zenyatta was deeply grateful for Genji’s patience and willingness to do so with him. 

The Japanese man sighed in relief, hand moving over to hold Zenyatta’s palm among his fingers and smile contently.

“You’re right. Whatever would I be doing here otherwise?”

The sentiment warmed his heart and soon spread like ivy into his limbs. For once, Zenyatta was truly happy and he was certain that the weight on Genji’s heart was eased significantly. His enticing hazelnut brown eyes wrapped Zenyatta’s entire form in grateful contentment. 

 

Love comes quietly,

finally, drops

about me, on me,

in the old ways.

What did I know   
thinking myself   
able to go   
alone all the way.

Robert Creeley - Love Comes Quietly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think, whatever that might be-- did I manage to make you feel something? I do believe this shows a great deal about Genji's side of the story. Hold on, we are not even close to being done here. I am quite overwhelmed myself whenever I read this part, Hanzo is dear to me and I believe there is hope for him. We will see how he thinks about that.


	10. Sushi Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Sushi Mission" a.k.a. crossing bridges together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Thank you so much for your support and kind comments! Special thanks to Ruriska for being an amazing and hardworking beta, purplepyro for her awesome livestream comments and Scarborrough for listening to little emotional me.

Truth to be told Zenyatta did not expect either of them into the trap  which now lead to the current situation. For the last couple of years they had managed to avoid the embarrassment and frustration which came with _it_ but apparently they weren’t so lucky this year. Genji silently fumed beside him in the parking lot in front of a large supermarket, and ran through the list in his phone one more time.

It wasn’t about cooking together or enjoying the pleasure of making food for other people. Zenyatta would cook anytime for his friends and greatly enjoyed having them as his guests but time and time again some students would unknowingly cross some boundaries and it was Zenyatta and Genji who had to deal with the ignorance.

It all started with the faculty’s gathering to plan and choose the date and place for the annual Christmas party. Although it was originally intended for the members of the department of languages, many people were interested in a larger gathering to meet once more before the Christmas break, not to mention that for some exchange students or visiting scholars this was the final chance to meet everyone before their departure. Zenyatta understood their feelings and agreed for the need of such harmless parties… and yet…

If there was one thing that could piss his friend off, it was racial presumptions.

“I wonder if anyone’d ask McCree to make Scottish food for everyone,” Genji almost growled in Japanese and Zenyatta simply replied with the thoughtful shake of his head. “Or Lena to make fish and chips? Or Miss Amari to…”

“Let’s focus on the task ahead. Do you have everything?”

“Yes, dammit. Let’s get the stuff…”

Genji had always been someone to go out of his way when it came to conflicts and dealing with them, Zenyatta knew that and had experienced both the straight-forward manners and the quiet fumings of his friend while taking care of arguments. Depending on the depth of the problem at hand, Genji easily handled conflicts with students, colleagues or Amélie about finances but when it came to personal troubles, the man had the tendency to return to his mental cave and grumble for days on end as he tried to solve the formula life threw at him.

These circumstances were entirely different however; being put on the spot in front of twenty-something people and being asked with such enthusiastic anticipation, Genji simply did not have the opportunity or possibility to decline. This time, he chose the low grumbling volcano tactic and continued to grump at Zenyatta all the way to Citymarket.

Still echoing sharply in his mind, Zenyatta recalled the student’s bright eyes and excited stance as she held one notepad in her hands and turned to Genji, who’d been previously lounging in a spare office chair right beside the forever-wallflower-at-meetings Zenyatta. The engineer wore his favourite green hoodie with black jeans, the hoodie underlined with a loose white scarf around his throat to keep it warm. His mood had previously been the usual jubilant one and Zenyatta now missed this happy-go-lucky Genji that would brighten his day and warm his entire being just by being around him.

The question had caught Genji unprepared, completely off-guard and in the middle of some anecdote he was telling to his friend.

“Mister Shimada, can you make us sushi?”

Zenyatta also remembered his own breath freezing for a moment and his eyes casting warily down at his friend, expecting him to turn the request down right away. Instead, Genji tensed up as more eyes darted at him and openly waited for his response, so as a few seconds passed the Japanese man straightened his posture and dismissively waved with his hands, “sure, I guess? Google is my friend.”

His comment settled their enthusiastic chatter until Genji looked up at Zenyatta and they exchanged a quiet nod in agreement. They could do this, like they did before. Mission ‘Sushi’ was on. The Nepalese man raised a thumb up before nodding at the others, “I’ll join him. Write us up.”

“ _We got this,_ ” Genji repeated in Japanese once he stood up and smoothed the hoodie down before he reached into his belly-pocket for his phone and at once began typing into the search engine.

“Until you put teriyaki and mushroom in everything, I guess we got this.”

His friend turned his face to look at him slowly in a borderline warning manner.

“Zenyatta, can you not?”

So here they were now in the middle of Citymarket and hunting for supplies to make sushi for the Christmas party; Genji was the more frustrated of the duo and Zenyatta tried his best to remain a calming anchor to his friend’s passionate, flaring emotions.

“Teriyaki on it.”

“No, Genji, it says…” Zenyatta pulled the phone from his friend’s grasp and squinted his eyes until he quickly recognized the kanji, “ _sushi-su…_ vinegar. Go and get that, I’ll get the salmon.”

“It’s better that you go, I won’t touch that.”

Zenyatta refrained from a painful eye-roll and waved at his friend to go. After a few steps however, Genji trotted back to him and by wrapping a hand around his arm, grabbed Zenyatta’s focus on him again, “are you sure we should get salmon? Tofu would be more friendly to people with fish allergies and we wouldn’t need to keep the stuff so strictly separated,” he barely finished the sentence as a long stream of Japanese curses left his lips again, _“damn it all, does she even know how troublesome this stuff is to make?”_

His hazelnut eyes threw daggers and thunder at the growing stack of supplies in their cart and Zenyatta noticed how he avoided even looking at his direction. Keeping Zenyatta safely away from the storm’s whipping.

_“Please, calm down. We got this. Just go and get the vinegar, please.”_

“ _Why don’t we just grab a few packages of pre-made ones and be done with it, Zenyatta? I hate raw fish, I hate fish roe, damn it I won’t touch those things!”_ He even shuddered with a disgruntled expression which filled his friend’s heart with compassion.

“ _I understand you’re upset but we don’t need to make those types if you don’t want to, Genji.”_

_“But that’s the stuff people expect when you say sushi, disgusting raw skinned fish and avocado-”_

_“Please, calm yourself. This is just another thing we can do together and enjoy, think about it. We don’t need to eat these, it’s not for us. Think about-- Genji, please listen to me._ ” The shorter man had to return the gesture and stop Genji from walking away in silent rage. “ _This is just another chance to explore the culinary arts of your nation and perhaps get better at it; next time you’ll be more prepared to say no.”_

_“I’m not a rude or clumsy loser, Zenyatta.”_

_“I know you’re not. We only need to make enough so people can taste it and we’re done. We’ll only make the easy types.”_

Genji couldn’t help hiding his eyes behind the balls of his palm for a moment, _“I don’t even remember the last time I had to roll nori… this will be a disaster.”_

_“Only if your mindset remains so negative. Once you’ve made up your mind, come back to me with the vinegar. Oh, and grab a bottle of… pickled ginger as well.”_

A decade of friendship was more than enough to know how thoroughly pissed Genji could get over problems he couldn’t solve right away; he had the habit to accumulate his anger and like a good chef, stir it on low fire until it got ready to explode. By the time they’d returned to Zenyatta’s apartment the Japanese man was ready to set the entire department of languages on fire.

“Just because I’m Japanese it doesn’t mean I know how to make sushi or that I like it!” He continued to vent in his mother-tongue even after they’d packed down and Zenyatta began making the rice. For the time being Genji’s only task was cutting cucumbers and carrots. Even that proved to be a way too simple task since it did not deter his thoughts from the object of his frustration.

For a while Zenyatta let the man fume like a constantly functioning kettle blowing some steam off; he had only switched on his favourite, calming playlist of piano songs on Genji’s old playstation after half an hour of listening. By that time his friend was making fun of his own uneven cuts of cucumber and made up worst-case scenarios just to ease his annoyance. According to Zenyatta’s experience and mentality, letting people release their tension openly with acceptance and patience was always better than telling them to bottle up such feelings and seal them away, even if it meant listening to their passionate ranting for an indefinite amount of time. This strategy worked the best with Genji, who’d always found the right mood to goof around and apologise to his friend through jokes and light-hearted teasing.

“You’re right, Zenny, at least we are doing something together; we haven’t properly done anything since the autumn break,” he mused as he turned to wash another carrot under the sink. “Now we can mess this up together and reap the shame, haha. I’m just kidding, it’s nice to be here again.”

Zenyatta pinched the bridge of his nose in exhaustion and the sudden bitter tug at his heart.

“Yes, Genji, I’m glad you’re here.”

“So what should I do next?”

For once, the literary scholar looked his friend straight in the eyes and for a few moments remained speechless from the simple feeling of not knowing what to do-- Genji was standing right beside him, his arms gently nudging at his middle as if to tell him to move aside yet when he did, the engineer followed in line.

He was messing with Zenyatta.

“You could perhaps start rolling the rice for the sashimi,” he finally said and noticed Genji’s eyes glancing down at his hands and back, even if the man almost deadpanned at his request while Zenyatta reached into a drawer,

“Zenya, you don’t roll that.”

“I mean, make little rice balls. Here’s a kerchief for your hair,” he stood again and witnessed the feat just in time.

“You roll this sweetie,” Genji raised his flexed bicep and kissed it, only to be rewarded with a sharp snap by Zenyatta hitting him with the scarf. “Ouch! Okay, I get it!”

Genji smoothed his hair back with a smile and tied the fabric up to keep any stray hairs from falling forth; as he had previously changed into a simple white tee and grey sweatpants, now he was truly ready to get down to business. He circled around the table but quickly returned to grab a little bowl of water for his hands, gaze all around Zenyatta like a curious puppy, “and you?”

“I’ll get to cutting the fish soon… let me find some boxes first.”

As expected, when Genji raised the large bowl of cooked rice to the table and noticed the bottle of salmon roe, he made a disgusted face and couldn’t help nagging once more, “Eewww dude, did you see this? Why did you buy that? I hate fish roe, that’s some disgusting... Fish eggs!”

“Genji, please, show some maturity.”

“Dude, this rice is icky.”

Okay, that did it; hearing that sentence from a renowned mechanical engineering scholar, his decade-long friend and comrade in trouble, Zenyatta couldn’t restrain himself from turning around from the bottom drawers where he kept his tupperware and laughing at the view. This surely wasn’t happening; Genji was poking the rice with a wet spoon and on purpose behaving like someone who had never seen any before in his life.

“Genji, this is your nation’s specialty.”

“Still icky.”

“Just prepare the rice,” Zenyatta sighed as he packed the boxes out to move them to his sink for rinsing, “I’ll be right there with the fish.”

“I thoroughly, deeply, honestly apologise for all this mess, Zenny. You’re a wonder.”

“No problem, Genji. Like I said, I’m happy that you’re here and we are doing this together.”

His sentimental response seemed to calm his friend’s mind ever further. Genji set to work on the other side of the table; wet his hands and began rolling tiny rice balls to even them out further into neat little bricks. For a few minutes they were quiet, both of them busy with the preparations with Zenyatta’s relaxing piano playlist going in the background.

“I honestly don’t remember the last time I made this kinda rice or let alone ate something like this...  European type of rice is so different and I’ve gotten used to that.”

“Well, the rice in the campus restaurants is nothing like this,” Zenyatta agreed as he finally settled with a sharp knife to begin cutting the salmon meat. “Still nothing compared to my Mom’s rice, the way she makes it.”

Genji’s expression lit up in a warm smile his way, “I hope she’ll come sometime soon and make for us.”

A comment so easily delivered had the strings of Zenyatta’s heart flutter like a delirious little bird in his chest. His imagination immediately pictured his mother, hair greying but full of warm smiles and loving, stirring the rice in the iron pot right here in the kitchen. She’d insist to wear her knit woollen socks despite the heating coming from the floor. Her raspy yet endearing voice would gently sing to them in Nepalese and bring the heartwarming memories of Zenyatta’s homeland right here to Finland.

“Why didn’t anyone ask you to make the food of your people?”

Zenyatta’s thoughts were quickly interrupted and he joined Genji in the present once more. Come to think of it, he had no answer for the man’s question.

“I suppose, people don’t know much about us.”

Genji shrugged and continued stacking little rice bricks the size of half his thumb onto a tray.

“Yeah, could be that.”

. . .

“So… if I’d make a rice ball the size of my fist…”

Zenyatta didn’t need to fully shift with his body; just by the slow, measured turn of his head towards Genji the young man released a playful laugh against his friend’s warning… “and put the right wires and voltage…”

“Genji, no robotics in the kitchen.”

“... I could make a rice bomb!”

“You only live long enough.”

Genji’s jubilant laugh echoed in the little apartment as the man wiped his hands and walked from one workstation to another; apparently he was getting really bored with the sashimi and nigiri making. He rolled his shoulders a few times and stretched his arms before checking the clock and noted that they still had two hours before leaving.

Surprisingly he tried one sashimi with salmon; after he dipped it in soy sauce he just popped the entire piece into his mouth and held a thumb up for the taste.

“Try it, Zenyatta. It’s good,” he smiled and placed one piece into a small soy bowl to bring it to his friend who’d been meticulously rolling different types of maki. He finished rolling one tube up and sealed it with a carefully measured move.

Zenyatta was getting exhausted as well, Genji could see it in the way he gradually grew quieter and succumbed into his thoughts to dwell on whatever important things his pretty little mind was occupied with. The scholar dipped the sashimi into soy sauce and followed Genji’s example.

The expected effect did not come. Genji blinked a few times, as if to nudge his friend but Zenyatta’s expression remained calm and motionless.

“Genji… if I’d be really honest…” he began in a tentative, almost apologetic manner.

In reply Genji inhaled a deep breath, mischievous smirk already lurking in the corners of his lips, “yeeeah?”

“Meaning, I’d speak what is truly on my mind right now… telling you my thoughts…”

“I’m ready for your judgement, Zenyatta.”

“I’d say we are catastrophic at this, despite our countries of origin.”

Genji’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, taken aback he placed the soy sauce bowl down and turned to praise Zenyatta’s pretty rolls already sitting neatly in the tupperware, “come on, look at them! They are beautiful, you’re doing so well. You shouldn’t even be a champion at this and look at yours! I’m a disgrace to my nation.”

“No, this is… this tastes like sponge, we messed something up.”

“Well, the rice does taste like sponge but… more like it tastes neutral to me.”

“So you’re saying…”

Throwing his arms up in defeat, Genji laughed.

“It doesn’t matter if we mess up at this point! Plus you aren’t supposed to eat it like that, anyway, that’s why there are so many spicy side dishes, sauces and variations. I’d say we are doing surprisingly well.”

Zenyatta only needed to look at him with that serene and almost sad expression that stopped his friend in his tracks. “Sure, would you give this to Mr. Morrison?”

That was a low blow to Genji’s confidence, it was clear in the dim hollow glint of his eyes.

“I’m a disgrace to my family _and_ my country, now you’re making it triple.”

“Let us carry on making sponge food, Genji. That’s all we can do.”

“No, actually, what if we keep this all,” Genji gave a nondescript wave with a hand and already began laughing at his suggestion, “and get pizza. Everybody likes pizza.”

“Don’t be childish, we tried so hard and we’ve come so far. We have all these boxes full of stuff already...”

“But in the end?” The man wiggled his eyebrows at him and Zenyatta gave a friendly push at his shoulder. Let him have his Christmas, the way he was anticipating the line from Zenyatta’s mouth the man might as well be anticipating a trip to Disneyland.

“It didn’t even matter.”

“Ah, there we go! Well, this can’t be helped anyway so let’s just…” after a pleasant laugh at their joke, Genji sighed and wrapped a hand around Zenyatta’s shoulder as if they were watching their unruly offspring on the table. “Let’s get this over with.”

. . .

With his eyes and a soft cough, Zenyatta glanced at the clock then back to Genji who stood several meters away around the centre of the room. _I should go._

 _Oh, right,_ Genji’s eyebrows shot up in the realization and he gave a few nods, unbeknownst to the soon leaving exchange student at his side who had kept him company for the last half an hour. On the other side of the large classroom, Zenyatta smiled as he looked at Mei.

“See, we did it,” he murmured between them, earning a hum of approval from his friend.

“I’m glad. Though he really could have just said ‘no’, we’d have accepted it.”

“He was put on the spot and didn’t want to be rude,” Zenyatta explained with a gentle wave of his hand before his fingers intertwined again in a contemplating position. “Thank you for helping us pack and cut.”

(And swatting Genji’s head when he grabbed the long kitchen knife and held it in a heroic warrior stance above the maki tubes, his other hand holding some ninja style pose as in a mighty voice he stated, “measure twice… cut once.”)

“It was my pleasure, Zenyatta. And it was delicious, I’m not just saying it out of politeness.”

“Thank you, Mei-Ling.”

“It’s a shame Mr. Morrison couldn’t make it.”

As the reminder suddenly found him, Zenyatta turned to Mei and smiled even brighter than before, “Mondatta is visiting for the winter break, are you staying around or will you go home…?”

The librarian’s eyes lit up in joy, she clapped her hands together to join Zenyatta in happiness, “Oh, that’s such a good news, yes, yes I’m staying! Oh that’s so nice!”

“Great! When he’ll be here we could have tea parties at my place and we’d be very happy if you joined us, Mei!”

“Absolutely, thank you! Oh I’ll prepare some cakes or biscuits for him when he arrives!”

“That’d be wonderful, we’d be very happy.”

His smile and tone couldn’t contain his happiness; he opened his arms invitingly and Mei accepted the offer in an instant.

From a respective distance, Genji’s eyes involuntarily narrowed at the display of affection and with a skeptical, analytic tilt of his head the gears in his head began to turn. Zenyatta’s old time and close friend Mei had just hugged his dearest friend in an international, inter-departmental gathering and if that wasn’t enough, it was Zenyatta who’d initiated the gesture. Zenyatta, who otherwise kept respectful distance from people and had the personal space of an arm’s range. Odd.

He knew that Mei and Zenyatta spent a lot of time in the library tending to old pieces of texts, preserving fragile material and digitalizing literary works for the university’s archives. The duo’s tireless efforts were immeasurable and they’d secured countless pieces of literary treasures over the years. He also remembered that the two had an unspoken ritual of buying each other presents and souvenirs from time to time, a habit Zenyatta hadn’t shared with him after their agreement that birthdays were not so important anymore once they passed their thirties. Which they did… and yet Zenyatta kept bringing Mei trinkets and presents. And now, they seemed gleeful about something, he overheard the mention of a party and according to Genji’s memory Zenyatta did not organize anything.

Which meant, that he wasn’t invited to that particular event.

And he did not like that one bit.

“Mr. Shimada would you visit us sometime in the Emirates?” He had spaced out. The question came from the left; Shadi, a lovely and brilliant lady from the UAE, he would definitely recommend her master’s thesis topic to be an application for PhD. He gave her a hesitant hum and smiled at her suggestion. “You could apply to be a guest lecturer? Our mechanical engineering program in Sharjah is quite new so our equipments are all top-class!”

“Equipment isn’t all, but the reputation of your university is indeed remarkable. Sounds tempting, to be honest, I’ll keep an eye out for the opportunity,” he replied. Her eyes widened in newfound glee as she squeezed her hands into fists and held them close to her chest.

“That’d be so lovely, Mr. Shimada! Oh, I’m sure you’d love it!”

Words seemed to have dried on his throat as the image of leaving conjured unpleasant, solemn thoughts yet his mind wandered over to the lively discussion Mei and Zenyatta seemed to have been having. Gaze wandering and his mind uncontrollably spacing out once more, Genji wondered if Hanzo had been right, several weeks ago.

By whose ideals did he wish to live his life?

No, he gave a shake of his head and cleared his mind to return to the present; Shadi’s bright and excited smile pulled a tentative smirk on his lips as well. Luckily she must have thought that her teacher was taking the  aforementioned offer into consideration.

“Let’s return to this some other time,” he suggested, a quite bitter and unpleasant tightness gripping his ribcage.

 

I can never see you clearly

But only feel you, the airy you

with my sore soul

from the shimmering moonlight on the lake.

For there’s always a layer of foggy air

in between, you and me.

Shiron Lai - Illusions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think, all forms of feedback are appreciated! :) I'm also going to participate in genyatta week, so stay tuned for more drabbles in this universe! See you next Wednesday!!


	11. New Horizons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mid-December, the beginning of an interesting, if not challenging time for both Genji and Zenyatta.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, I'd like to thank Ruriska for helping me through this chapter and waves of uncertainty. Purple_pyro's and all your positive comments help me a lot to go on, I am very grateful to all of you who left an encouraging or positive comment.

His fist clenched nervously, hand drawing back beside his cheek as he hesitantly bit into the skin on his index finger. As easy as it sounds, _go and see Reyes_ , Genji steeled his heart and took a steadying breath, even as the black button-up’s shirt strained against his chest in the effort. It won’t be that bad, his hopeful heart suggested but the soon-to-be doctor of sciences grit his teeth and attempted to take another breath.

He was ready to get his ass delivered and be polished by Reyes, words cutting like whiplash until Genji was ready to willingly hand even his BSc back to the man.

Where was Zenyatta when Genji was in dire need of tranquility? About to arrive back from Helsinki, fetching his brother from the airport. They both had their tasks set for the day, his friend had reminded him; in the end all will come together and everything will be alright. That was the only thing Genji truly believed in today.

He knocked and Reyes’s voice from inside reached his ears a moment later.

As Genji stepped in the spacious, neatly organized and surprisingly pastel coloured office, none other than a sharply suited Jack Morrison stared back at him from the makeshift kitchenette on the other corner while Gabriel Reyes simply raised an eyebrow and gave him a proper greeting. As usual, he was dressed in simple yet dark tones matched with a scrutinizing glare which froze the air and blood in every underperforming student of his.

“It’s been a while, Genji. Please, sit,” with a wave of his hands covered by leather gloves, the renown researcher’s hawkish eyes followed Genji’s every move.

 _Oh no he is being polite_ , the man resisted a shudder and the urge to flee.

The small, proud smirk in the corner of Morrison’s mouth somewhat helped as the youngest member of academia pulled a spare chair from the other side of the office and did as he was told, involuntarily lacing his fingers in front of himself and placing an ankle over his knee. Reyes sized him up as he always did and Genji noticed a new edition of _Aerodynamics and Vector Mechanics_ lying on the table; Reyes’ new crops of BSc would be crushed like an anthill under a boulder. He could imagine the undergrads panicking before the exams like crazed headless chicken… oh, the nostalgia.

“How have you been?”

Genji tried to talk but for a few moments nothing came out of his throat. “Sir, I’ve been well,” he eventually croaked.

“Good. Good. Sleeping well?”

Morrison turned to look out on the window as if it was the most captivating sight he would ever witness. As if the view wouldn’t be the same from his own office, the view that he had been seeing every single day for the past few decades with Reyes. Genji strained the muscles in his entire upper body to control the rising wave of pressure. Morrison didn’t want him to plead for help from him.

“Yes, sir,” he simply replied as if Reyes was dragging the words out of him with a crimping plier.

The low, grim cough that came next churned Genji’s insides. When would Reyes finally assess his article, is it catastrophic or worthy to be published, is it good enough or should he just go and dig a hole in the back end of a Finnish forest for himself? Or should he have dug it in the first place, before showing up?

“Forgive me, I have a cold,” Reyes cleared his throat and placed a gloved hand on his bosom while his authoritative gaze bore into Genji’s. “You know, Genji, I need to apologise for neglecting you this semester.”

“He’s been busy trying to petition the MLA community to raise the font size from twelve to fourteen. The stress has been awful to his eyesight,” Jack stated, matter of factly.

Of all the things Genji would have expected Reyes to do at such a comment from his old-time friend, the man simply laced his fingers together on the table and with a gentle tilt of his head, replied to Morrison in the same factual tone. “Morrison, quit dragging your dreams onto me. Some of us actually learned how to zoom in Microsoft Word.”

“Gabriel, have you ever heard of contact lenses or aging with finesse?”

“Oh, Jack. Are you trying to deter me from telling Genji how his little article went? Besides, using such words like ‘finesse’ really does require me to ask you to stop using words you’re unfamiliar with.”

Genji’s knuckles gradually turned white during the intermission as the two old professors bickered; he wondered how thrilled the archeology guys would be if he recorded it for them… the phenomenon being an age-old thing and never getting out of trend.

“Well, Genji.” With his attention coming back to the man, Reyes’s lips pursed into a thin line under his moustache that Genji and Jesse secretly called ‘world domination’.

“Mr. Reyes.”

“I’ve read your analysis several times over…” here the old professor poked his wireless mouse so the screen of his laptop would flicker alite, the slow drag in his voice around the end drawing a gurgling shiver up Genji’s spine. Just end his misery already! “In fact, I specifically remember the remarkable language that you applied here.”

That was only the surface, the engineer remembered… plus, in academics one always began with a positive trait in critique only to go down through the seven pits of hell and end the burning torture of picking apart someone’s weeks, months long struggling work. Reyes was way too well-versed in this form of intellectual art.

“Genji, please remind me when did I ever teach you to use more than a decade old theoretical approaches?”

Here Genji knew that the drill began. Morrison hummed in agreement from behind Reyes’ chair, still gazing out the window. No reinforcements on the horizon.

“Never, Mr. Reyes.”

The professor hummed as he echoed, “never. So when I see you combine my old text with the conjoint project of yours with Doctor Ziegler and turn it all upside down, you know what crosses my mind?” His nonchalant wave in the air was in sharp contrast with the grim tone of his voice and Genji did the counting, if Reyes would cut that section he’d lose five pages. A lot. It would not save him from the following shame and humiliation that he underperformed, he had not met the expectations of the second-in-command of the faculty. He had failed Mr. Reyes.

“I think, Genji Shimada, are you lazy? Did Morrison and I accept you into this programme to be lazy? Don’t answer that question. I personally called Doctor Ziegler and sent her your material.”

As if encapsulated into a throbbing, tight shell, Genji strained his arms and fists under the disguise of a troubled sigh while the pure white wave of shame washed over him. If he had vents, he wished for them to cool his entire nervous system before he exploded in humiliation.

“You know what came next? In utter shock, she called Doctor Winston, Professor Vaswani, Doctor Torbjörn,” the man counted on his fingers as if he was going through a list of groceries. “Even Professor Reinhardt, about what you did.”

This was the end of Genji’s academic career. He knew it.

“If that wouldn’t be enough, by divine intervention somehow Ms. Amari managed to get a hold of it and sent Morrison a long… very long email.”

“It arrived this morning,” Jack mumbled as if the information would clarify anything.

Still seated but feeling like being methodically buried alive, Genji wondered if now would be the right time to call Hanzo and confess his undying brotherly love once more before jumping down from the Siberia Simulator bridge of the small Finnish town. No. He wanted to see Zenyatta one more time. Maybe he would jump after that.

“Genji…” Reyes began once more, though he took his sweet time leaning back in his chair and even going as far to take a deep, dramatic inhale of a tired sigh as if to lament, _whatever am I going to do with you here?_

“Mr. Reyes, I--”

“Genji, you’re being published in _Material Science and Engineering R. Reports_ and _International Journal of Robotics Research.”_

His brain short-circuited.

Morrison’s gentle yet gradually growing, thoroughly entertained laughter echoed in the suddenly empty halls of his mind along with the sight of the reassuring, confident grin spreading on Reyes’s lips.

“Congratulations, Genji. You truly outdid yourself.”

“Genji, you’re being published in two international journals.” Jack’s proud smile finally seeped some life into the engineer; as if someone had reapplied his batteries. “You did it.”

He couldn’t believe it, he couldn’t believe his own ears, his eyesight as his conscious struggled to keep up with the tremendous and grand information as if in a hazy aquarium. He did it.

By reflex he stood when Reyes did and he remembered shaking hands with the senior researchers, his mentors ever since he’d been cast out of the shelters of his family. They had given him a new opportunity to forge a path for himself and now they both stood with unabashed pride in their eyes.

Morrison walked over to pat him on the shoulders.

“We are proud to have you here in this institution, Genji.”

“I--” _I need to tell Zenyatta. I need to tell Hanzo. Hanzo. Jesse. Zenyatta. ”_ Mister Reyes, Jack…”

“Just do what you’re the best at, Genji. We will wait for reviews and response from other scholars during the winter but so far your study seems like a project many will be happy to support and get funding for; with Doctor Ziegler you will be attending the spring conference in Cambridge and defend your work. From there, we will find sponsors and make it become reality.”

This was too much to handle.

“I need to tell my family,” he mumbled and Morrison clapped him on the shoulder with a warm smile as he turned to walk out, mind in a haze. Reyes folded his arms and shifted his weight on his legs, almost affectionately shaking his head at the sight of Genji already fishing for his phone.

“Use the break for relaxing, Genji! You deserve it.”

For a moment, neither of the senior professors spoke until Reyes turned on his heel and playfully winked at his partner in crime. Mocking him and at the same time pitying the young genius, Jack gave a slight shake of his head.

“You needn’t roast him _that_ hard…”

Gabriel responded with an easy and amused laugh before raising his hands mid-air in innocence.

“Hey, it was your idea! Right of passage, remember?”

. . .

When he finally spotted the form of his friend in the parking lot, bundled up in dark blue parka coat, his almost trademark red beanie and hands in his pockets, a wide grin spread across Genji’s lips as he broke into an easy trot. Soon Zenyatta noticed his approach and raised a hand in greetings but he didn’t expect Genji to drop his backpack on the ground just before he reached him and pull him in a hug. In retrospect, poor Zenyatta had to take a forceful step back to balance both of them before placing his hands on the other’s sides, surprised and perplexed while Genji grinned and let his heart swell with happiness.

“Zenyatta, I did it! They’ll publish me _twice and in international journals, Zenyatta I’m getting published overseas, Zenyatta I’m so happy! Thank you, thank you so much, I couldn’t have gotten here without you, Zenyatta, ah, man, thank you so much!”_

“ _Wonderful, Genji!”_ His friend patted his back a few times before returning his enthusiastic embrace, albeit with much less fervor.

Genji lessened his hold around Zenyatta to hug him as gently as he could one more time, before releasing him only to clasp his hands on the man’s shoulders on both sides and bask in the joyful smile he was rewarded, _“I’m serious, I couldn’t have done this without you.”_

_“Congratulations, Genji.”_

“ _There’ll be a conference in the spring in Cambridge, will you come with me?”_

_“That’d be lovely, let’s see how my next semester turns out.”_

_“Yosh, I’m so happy. Where is Mondatta? How is he doing?”_

_“He’s asleep, he had a very long journey. I was actually planning to do some grocery shopping before you called. In fact, we made a couple of programs for the week as it is, and with my classes ending I was hoping that you wouldn’t mind coming over around the end of the week?”_

Like a kindling of light blown by the gentlest breeze, Genji’s smile melted away and he pursed his lips into a tense line. Only around the weekend? Of course, he nodded and reached with an unsteady hand to fix his own beanie as if it was askew.

“ _Sure, that works for me. Give him my greetings, please.”_

_“Certainly.”_

Zenyatta cleared his throat and with another hesitant smile of his, the kind that always told Genji that something was not right, that his friend was troubled and simply didn’t want to bother him with whatever storm scorched his soul… the Nepalese man gave him a brisk nod.

“ _Let’s see the weekend, Genji,”_ he said, his voice even and not leaving any space for the other to object or intervene. An unknown yet foreboding, clawing instinct rose in the engineer’s chest as he bid his own goodbye and watched his friend walk back to his car. His eyes remained calculating, measuring and observing every move of the other. Zenyatta was keeping a secret from him, that did not take a genius to figure, yet Genji couldn’t help repeating the fact over and over again until he got home, his success suddenly unimportant and meaningless in the back of his mind.

. . .

For a very long time Zenyatta hadn’t heard or talked his own mother tongue with a living, breathing person who was always within an arm’s reach. His mind needed days to accommodate to the need to coherently, grammatically correctly and consistently speak Nepalese without mixing it with English or Japanese; soon they realized that it’d take probably weeks for his mind to get used to that. Mondatta was like a cool summer’s breeze on a hot day, like a reminder of constant support and the values of his origins. A blessed reminder of his home and the tranquil peacefulness of life that belonged to his family. Zenyatta cherished his presence more than he appreciated the upcoming winter break already knocking on their door.

As his last class was finished and wrapped up, he texted Genji not to come over that day with chai latte and coffee -- he already booked a table for two in a characteristically Finnish restaurant near the town and they needed to leave quickly with Mondatta in order to be on time. He had taken his mother there too, two years ago and she was utterly smitten by the traditional, rural Finnish settings of the restaurant in the middle of the pine forests, not to mention the petting zoo attached to it with living, well tended moose and other deer.

In retrospect, the literary scholar and his buddhist brother turned into enthusiastic schoolboys upon meeting Matti the Magnificent Moose. The animal greatly amazed both of them. They took at least fifty pictures and selfies and fed him a great amount of carrots. Mondatta wanted him to keep a tiny deer from the petting zoo, the one with curious pebble eyes, dotted fur and small hooves like tiny polished oxfords. A truly wonderful creature it was. In the end they went back to pet Matti one last time before leaving, promising the large yet friendly and curious giant that they would come back next winter. The promise and the attached sentiment made Zenyatta smile warmly and hug his brother close in the car. How greatly he missed just reaching out and hugging a loved one without restraint or fear of rejection?

The next day Mei visited them and brought her delicious cinnamon cake with lemony frosting; the Tekhartha brothers prepared Nepalese chicken and upon tasting Mondatta’s home-style prepared rice, Zenyatta felt emotions well up behind his eyes, longing and love thickening in his throat. They played card games, discussed everything that came to their mind and finally for a very long time Zenyatta felt the painful nostalgia and gratefulness of being surrounded by people who came together only because they loved him. If it wasn’t for him, Mondatta and Mei probably never would’ve met and over the years the two had become friends because of him.

With his brother’s gentle hold on his arm, as a soothing anchor to ground his mind and soaring heart, Zenyatta supposed that he could probably have Genji over for a few days if the Japanese man agreed. When the news of his unexpected success hit Zenyatta had known in an instant what it meant for the future; more conferences and more chances of Genji being invited to transfer to another university. Now that he’d be internationally published in renowned scientific journals, there was no way he wouldn’t get offers from other research groups from across the globe. Who wouldn’t want to work with Genji?

During their daily meditation with Mondatta, Zenyatta quietly and secretly began to prepare himself for the unavoidable, even if he felt grateful for the universe allowing and letting Genji to grow and earn success for his efforts.

. . .

Scattered paperwork covered the floor in his home office, the stacks of drawings, diagrams, pages long countings and corrections of formulas everywhere mixed with printed articles from other scholars. As Genji sat in lotus and began collecting the papers, stacking them into piles by categories (counting, his own theories, analytic notes, other people’s articles) his mind wandered around the previous month which seemed to fly by quicker than he’d expected.

After the sushi mission somehow both of their lives had seemed to get more hectic than before, Zenyatta’s schedule was full with his thesis tutees and by the time they realized the last lessons approached for their courses and Mondatta’d arrived.

He imagined Zenyatta clutching at his brother tightly at the airport like last winter, as they came together in a fierce hug and Genji remembered them holding one another for a solid minute, mumbling in their mother tongue and Zenyatta tearing up. In the end he ended up driving them home because the two Tekharthas were too busy catching up and talking on the backseat while Genji did one his favourite pastime hobbies when he had nothing better to do; mentally translating lyrics on the radio into binary code.

Come to think of it... Genji’s eyes lit up as the idea dawned on him. For the last six years they hadn’t exchanged Christmas gifts so he’d have to wait for Zenyatta’s birthday (another event they agreed not to celebrate) but oh, he intended to go through with this. Nothing could be compared to the joy and fun of pranking Zenyatta with memes and see his cute confusion or downright amused irritation at Genji’s silliness. He wasn’t Genji’s decade-long best friend for nothing, he mentally noted, his humor was peerless and sweet. Within minutes he found the necessary local company that’d be just perfect for his little project and wrote them an email about his request, asking for an approximate price.

His phone’s ringtone put a stop to his amused snickering and the man rose to fetch the device, expression lighting up in glee when he recognized the caller.

After packing in record time, dressing haphazardly and not forgetting the scarf and beanie combo, Genji hopped on the bus and couldn’t wait to see the Tekhartha brothers.

. . .

Mondatta was a patient man.

When he first noticed and learned of his brother’s infatuation with a Japanese man in a faraway land, he had only clicked his tongue and shook his head the way one would scold a daydreaming child to get a hold of reality. As the years went by and his brother’s crush grew into affection, Mondatta began to keep an eye on his sensitive and over-analytic sibling who, ever since their early childhood, had the habit of approaching danger or the risk of getting hurt in close proximity as if he’d taunt them into contact.

He would recall Zenyatta and him wandering in the woods. Climbing rocks and playing pretend was good and well until his little brother would go ahead and ask the village’s bully to join them or would bring a stray or injured animal home almost every week to adopt. At least he started with cats and stray dogs from around their village but once they’d gotten slightly bigger and were allowed to venture into the forests and the mountains, Zenyatta’s heart couldn’t handle seeing any sort of creature in pain, let those be mountain goat calves, foxes, lizards or sheep. He’d bring them home to nurse them back to health, wonder and awe forever shining in his warm brown eyes.

Mondatta couldn’t understand, even in his years as an adult grown man he wouldn’t grasp why Zenyatta would venture out of his own element just to initiate dialogue with people so opposite of his own nature. Curiosity got a man only so far, and this Japanese man had a few years long period when Mondatta truly worried if his pure and kind-hearted brother would fall victim to some spoiled First-World born kid’s manipulation.

Instead, much to Mondatta’s perplexity and positive surprise the man called Genji Shimada put an abrupt stop to his wild escapades and like a prideful, sulking leopard began to lurk around his brother. Zenyatta’s hopeful and forever patient attitude ebbed Mondatta’s wariness and when Genji had finally listened to his brother’s offered guidance which would lead into a more harmonious state of existence, Mondatta relented.

If that was how Zenyatta wished to go on, Mondatta respected the decision and even though he continued to contemplate on his brother’s adventurous nature (compared to his own), he did not find an answer to why Zenyatta would offer millenias old wisdom and a traditionally revered way of life to someone like Genji. The man lived amongst rationally built systems which did not allow maybes or long periods of patience, allowing one’s senses and mind to accommodate to this new form of existence. Zenyatta lived in harmony with himself, he’d been brought up to embrace the tranquility of certainty that came with their philosophy but in his view Genji had been eaten up by the Western world’s ideas. Then again, Mondatta did not live around Genji at that time and he scolded himself for assuming any right to pass judgement above the man. If Zenyatta deemed him worthy, if Zenyatta kindled the hope and openness of his heart with such love that Mondatta hadn’t seem him show for anyone else, he’d accept and be at peace with his brother’s decision.

That is, until seven years ago Zenyatta confessed to him and him only. His eyes were sorrowful and distant as he told Mondatta, he loved Genji the way he wouldn’t love anyone else. That he yearned for his presence, his smile and brilliance. He remembered Zenyatta’s gentle, peaceful sorrow as he came home for the winter break and he refused to mention Genji or discuss anything related to him. Mondatta knew that his brother would be in the slowly burning pain of longing as long as he was around the Japanese man and yet couldn’t bring himself to ask him to stay in Nepal.

Mondatta was but a man who was concerned for his brother’s heart and yet couldn’t bring himself to ask Genji about the question at hand. Watching them for years in growing rows dance around each other, Genji kindly, playfully teasing his sweet brother and instinctively complementing him in nearly everything in life and soul, Mondatta grew tired of waiting. He’d observed from the sidelines, at times enjoyed the way the two forgot about his presence, sometimes reminded himself of his own boundaries and Zenyatta’s requests not to intervene whatever would happen.

Mondatta practiced self-restraint at times in Genji’s presence. Keeping comments or light-hearted jokes to himself not to confuse the young man. He knew Genji respected him like a person of great knowledge and wisdom, accepted him as someone superior to him even though Mondatta did not remember about doing anything to earn that. Perhaps it was that Genji had a pre-established, unshakable idea about older siblings and their authoritative positions. He never questioned Genji about that and his intuition told him to leave that matter entirely in Zenyatta’s care. He also knew that Genji held him as a person to be respected for his status as a soon-to-be sworn monk at a monastery.

When Zenyatta told him about Genji’s recent success and the possible event of him leaving Finland and Zenyatta behind to join a more prestigious institution or research team, Mondatta knew that his brother was going through another wave of great distress, rooted in uncertainty. It was in the tremble of his voice, his breathing, the way he spaced out and his appetite greatly dampened. His attempts at appearing cheerful pulled an empathic string in Mondatta’s heart and after one of their meditation sessions he’d crossed their unspoken rule and suggested to ask Genji himself about the thought of leaving.

As he expected, the doubt and fear of losing Genji had wedged itself too deeply into Zenyatta’s heart, the thoughts pressing all reassuring and soothing attempts away from Mondatta. The weak reasoning, _wouldn’t want to ask something so personal_ made the older Tekhartha roll his eyes almost painfully. If Zenyatta’s mind was too clouded by doubt and shyness, Mondatta decided to ask Genji himself.

To say the least, the outcome was _not_ what he expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suppose it is needless to say that this chapter includes a lot of key elements for the future. Thank you for keeping up with me, if you have any questions do not hesitate to ask! <3 Buckle in for Mondatta, he is one of my favourites (as if I wouldn't love all my babies dear to my little weak fluffy heart)!! Let me know what you think about the chapter!


	12. Two Aces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes it takes two aces to win but in our case, the third is very much needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Thank you for being here again and reading along. I'd like to thank Ruriska for her endless support and great beta skills, haltherobot for her music, purple_pyro, D17 and everyone else for their awesome comments :D Thank you so much!

 

“Your desire to possess and control is the root of your doubts, your fears. If it would come to that,” the deep and soothing voice of the man paused for a second, to refer to the matter of their discussion, “you know what you will have to do. I needn’t explain the process again.” 

It was only a matter of minutes before Genji would arrive and Zenyatta’s heart anxiously fluttered in his chest, his hands trembling like a weak leaf in the autumn. 

“I know. I will stand by his side and see this through it just never seemed to be this close. I know he keeps saying that he wants to stay, but if he does get an offer from another institute… these are once-in-a-lifetime opportunities,” he explained, even though Mondatta knowingly nodded in reply. “His success might result in more prestigious places taking an interest in his research. It is selfish of me, I know, but I worry nonetheless. It… truly never seemed to be this close.”

“Oh, Zenyatta,” Mondatta’s eyes softened in sympathy and his brother simply replied with a deep inhale. “You’ve been doing very well on your own and I’m proud of you, but perhaps taking a break from everything would be more helpful than pursuing this life. Like everyone else, you also need time to heal.”

The offer and what came with it left Zenyatta quiet and contemplative for a few seconds before he stood from the table and in the continued silence, began to wash dishes. 

“I like living here,” he began, turning the tap on and waiting for the warm water. ”The faculties, and how close we are to nature. I can go to meditate by a lake or in the middle of a forest in just half an hour, on foot. Besides, if he does leave, I wouldn’t be left completely alone.”

“I have no doubt of that.”

“It is refreshing to talk so freely of this, Mondatta. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” the older Tekhartha smiled, eyes roaming over his brother’s lean yet well-fed figure. “Consider this however, probably one of my last piece of advice. I’ll be eligible to take the oath next summer, or so my mentor says, and it’ll be very difficult to visit you. I’ll be tending to my new family’s needs and will spend most of my life with them from then on.”

Zenyatta closed the tap before he turned, expression serenely elevated, joyful, “that’s wonderful news, Mondatta. You must be happy.”

“I am, but my task is not finished with you. Before I go and join my brothers, first I’d like to find another guide for you to take my place.”

His watchful, deep oaken eyes softened as he saw the smallest hint of Zenyatta’s sorrow, the morose tilt downwards in the corner of his lips. In an instant and mentally steeling his heart, Mondatta scolded himself but did not reject the already fierce longing his younger brother felt, radiating from his askew posture and avoidant gaze. 

He didn’t wait long enough for Zenyatta to walk away, instead he stood and offered an embrace by the extension of his arms. The two enveloped one another for a long minute to let reassurance and love roam freely between them. Mondatta knew and understood the pain wedging itself deeper into Zenyatta’s heart, the thought of losing both his brother’s guidance and the man he loved yet could not come up with anything to say. 

The knock on the door startled Zenyatta like a rabbit, he straightened immediately and Mondatta could practically see the hesitant hope in his eyes. Without a word he strode to open up and greeted Genji with an unrestrained smile that would always appear when the Japanese man was in sight. As the guest took his coat off and Zenyatta brought his backpack to the dining table, Mondatta smoothed his long shirt and offered a hand to Genji when he came to greet him. He’d changed, Mondatta internally noted, eyes roaming around Genji’s hair, his sharp and bright eyes and the almost uncharacteristic humbleness as the young man shook hands with him and informed Mondatta how greatly he anticipated meeting him after an entire year. 

From the splashes of water and noises of porcelain Mondatta noticed that Zenyatta had gone to finish his task from earlier so he had a few moments in Genji’s company.

“You’ve grown, Genji,” he offered as a start, head tilting in a manner of appreciation and the engineer’s eyebrows lifted in genuine perplexity. Wearing his simplest dark blue hoodie and comfortable black sweatpants with neon green stripes on the sides, his cheeks flushed from the walk over, Genji looked healthy and well, Mondatta concluded.

“Well, thank you. That’s very kind of you to say, Mondatta. I’m so, so grateful that you could make the journey again, it’s truly an honor to have you here.”

“Ah, shush young one,” with a dismissive wave of his hand and a soft laugh he patted the engineer a few times on his shoulder, “flattering me will get you nowhere.”

“But I mean it.”

“I know you do, dear Genji. Let’s sit and play some games when Zenyatta’s finished.”

“Can I help, Zenya?”

Here we go, Mondatta hummed inwardly. 

His younger sibling glanced at them and slightly softened in his tense posture when he saw the both of them together, gratitude and fondness glistening in his chestnut brown eyes. Voice soft and humble, Zenyatta gave a nondescript wave around his cabinets, “sure, could you make us some tea?”

“Yes, of course.” The certain and confident smile on Genji’s face grew as he walked in the kitchen and by memory began the brewing process with his hands instinctively pulling at the right drawers. Oh, Mondatta knew he’d be having one entertaining evening watching these two simply dance around one another. 

. . .

With a secretive glance to his left Zenyatta cleared his throat and immediately knew his mistake; mentally kicking himself and pursing his lips into a thin line he decided to purposefully avoid Genji’s analytic and coy gaze by looking down to the side. The engineer was onto him badly and--

“Aha!” Lips spreading into a smirk, Genji quickly raised a hand in his trademark ‘ninja style’ hold. “A warrior’s greatest weapon is patience… and with my superior senses I figured you have two aces.”

Zenyatta was so bad at canasta like a half-legged pirate on a marathon race… what’s worse than that, he had his older sibling and his prodigy robotics engineer love at the table, two people who read his tells like a flowing river.

He borderline flushed in embarrassment and hid his cheeks behind the cards in his hold as he attempted his best to sound cool and definitely not busted, “no, you’re mistaken.”

“Oh, but I’m not…” the smirk spread into a cocksure smile, Genji’s playful eyes glinting at him as he winked, “you forget that I do count the cards on the deck… and your tells, Zenyatta.”

“I told you Mondatta, he’s impossible when it comes to canasta!” Zenyatta mumbled under his nose before Genji protested.

“It’s not my fault! I’ve known you for a decade, of course I know your tells!”

“Let us play, for now,” from the other side of the table and opposite to both of them, Mondatta raised a hand in a calming motion with his eyes calculating his own move. “You can conclude this after the round has ended and it’s still Zenyatta’s turn.”

“Genji is cheating, he watching my cards!”

The engineer’s eyes widened, taken aback he lifted his hands in innocence and of course, turned to convince Mondatta, “I promise I’m not! I’m only watching his face!”

Zenyatta placed his cards face down on the table in a neat pile and tugged on his brother’s sleeve, “brother, how else would he know I have two aces? He is cheating,  _ and  _ he is an engineer!”

“If Genji will continue to watch Zenyatta, we will exclude him from the match,” Mondatta ever-so gracefully stated, with a voice which usually left no space for argument. When it came to Genji however, most things didn’t go as they usually would.

The young man scoffed and even went as far as to shift his chair closer to Zenyatta’s, who reflexively tugged on Mondatta’s sleeve again.

“What, now I’m not even allowed to look at you?” Genji tilted his head slightly in barely concealed hurt and the older Tekhartha had to bite on his lower lip not to snicker at the display. “Don’t be fooled, Mondatta, he is playing us both. So many are fooled but I’m not, I know you’re anything but innocent when it comes to card games, Zenyatta!”

“I don’t even know how to lie, Genji.”

“Exactly, that’s your strategy and I figured it long ago. My mind is like flowing water, like wind, I figured it all.”

“So how many conspiracy theories do you have about my brother, exactly?”

The question spoken by Mondatta himself and the serene peacefulness that it arrived with, perplexed Genji to the point that he leant back in the chair and crossed his arms, “I won’t tell my secrets while we’re playing.”

“Then we shall hear them later,” the Buddhist nodded. His calm demeanor turned into utter shock, eyes widening with his lips tightly pursed when Zenyatta indeed placed two aces with a joker, and another pair of kings with a consequently following joker on the table.

Just like that, he was out with one hand.

In the sudden silence of shock and disbelief, Genji muttered something under his nose and huffed like a sulking predator.

“See. The art of deception is strong in this one,” and hearing him slither in a dark and deep tone in the imitation of Hanzo’s speech, Zenyatta couldn’t decide whether he was supposed to scold Genji for the disrespect or reward him for the accuracy of his tone.

“Tea?” He stood instead with a heartwarming smile and already walked to the counter to pull out the drawer full of tea boxes. “Mondatta, how about the vanilla-rooibos tea, did you like it?”

“I did, thank you. Another would be wonderful.”

As Zenyatta’s inquiring gaze jumped to Genji, he was slightly surprised to see him stand as well and approach.

“I’ll choose this time for myself,” the man spoke gently, casually stopping to browse beside his friend. “You can go back and sit, I’ll prepare the rest too.”

The politeness from Genji with the tender string of his voice caressed a recently unattended chord in Zenyatta’s heart, assuring him of the other’s presence and how easy it was to fall into a casual, trusted rhythm they shared. “Thank you. I’d like the apple-cinnamon one.”

When his gaze met with Mondatta’s and the younger brother noticed the tiniest spark of smug, almost coy satisfaction coming from him, he glanced back once at Genji and hesitated to leave him. It finally dawned on him and yet it remained oblivious to Genji’s genuinely curious, attentive gaze.

Mondatta was planning something, and the realization turned Zenyatta’s insides into trembling icicles.

“Tell me, Genji, I’m asking because I don’t know: do you celebrate Christmas?”

As if dragged from the depth of his mind, Genji’s gaze jumped to Mondatta and after clearing his throat he seemed to notice their position and stepped aside to let Zenyatta go.

“I did—few times only. When I was a teenager.”

“Meaning, not any longer?”

Stifling the softest snicker and uniting gaze with Genji, Zenyatta simply glanced down at the tabletop while his friend returned to his task of brewing tea, perplexity and an endearing flush spreading on his cheeks. 

“Not any longer,” Genji replied.

“Well, do you have anything to do during that week?”

“No, not really. I was planning to grade assignments and end-term tests.”

“You could do that here too,” Zenyatta suggested. Feeling bolder and somehow more certain now in Mondatta’s presence Zenyatta gave in to his intuition; as he secretly glanced aside and saw his brother’s approving, small nod, he went on. “I was planning the same.”

“That’s kind of you to ask,” the young man turned halfway towards them to look them gratefully in the eye and turn back again to the soaking tea. “That would be nice.”

“Then it’s settled.” 

“What about this Saturday?”

The brothers exchanged looks and it was Zenyatta who spoke first, “Mondatta and I are planning to go to the central hospital for the day, what did you have in mind?”

Genji flicked the electric kettle’s button so it’d begin boiling the water while he rinsed their mugs. In the comfortable, casual silence Mondatta began to reshuffle their cards and Zenyatta couldn’t help but fondly commit the memory of having both of these men in the same room at the same time, uncertain when the opportunity would rise again.

“I’ll go snowboarding with the team. Lúcio, Hana, Lena… I think Amélie and Satya will go on the downhill skiing tracks, “Genji counted on his hand, finger by finger while casually leaning with his back against the counter, not even noticing how Mondatta raised a suggestive eyebrow at Zenyatta, who gave brisk, quick shakes of his head. Snowboarding and the team? Life hazard. 

As Genji member by member recollected the people, his eyes returned to the brothers with a playful smirk pulling at his lips at the display. “Not sure if Mr. Morrison is coming or not, he hasn’t replied yet but I totally understand if you’ll go to the hospital. It’s a very noble thing from you.”

“We’ll come next time. I know Mondatta would like to meet the others.”

At this, Genji suspiciously narrowed his eyes and pretended to think hard and serious before mockingly pinning his hazelnut eyes at Zenyatta, “what if I invite Mei-Ling?”

“She visited us yesterday, her cake was delicious,” Mondatta smiled and added with his gaze turning to Zenyatta for help, “but if I remember correctly, she mentioned some journey...”

“Yeah, she said she’s leaving tomorrow to St. Petersburg to Aleksandra for the entire break.”

“Oh, you two are so up to date, I wonder how Mondatta functions without WhatsApp over there in Nepal.”

“Easily, we write letters. She regularly sends me animal stickers, they are the loveliest... the children are overjoyed every time.”

Zenyatta smiled at how Genji’s eyebrows shot up in both amusement and wonder as he let a light chuckle gently shake his upper body. Curiously he folded his arms and glanced aside to the mugs as if they’d be causing trouble. “That’s very kind of her.”

“You could drop by after you’re done? Sometime in the evening on Saturday?”

“Sounds good to me.”

As the seconds stretched into minutes, questions and replies like pieces of chain around him, the gradually dawning realization was like diving from the depths of a lake. So content, blessed and having both his brother and Genji around, Zenyatta lulled himself into the embracing safety surrounding him, momentarily forgetting that his brother was indeed planning something with his friend. As the two eased into a casual discussion about the relations between downhill skiing and buddhist monks, Zenyatta couldn’t help but allow his fond gaze to wander between them.

“So can you come with us for downhill skiing?”

“I  _ am _ allowed to have fun, Genji. Downhill skiing is a perfect way to exercise, concentrate and have fun with friends, there is nothing wrong with that...”

“I know you’re allowed to have fun, I didn’t mean-- I’m sorry.”

“It is alright, it’s good of you to ask, so I can explain. See, now it’s clear.”

“No, I actually meant have you ever learned how to skii on tracks? The markings and signs... and such?”

“Oh, so that’s what you… Genji, I’m from Nepal. Of course I learned.”

“I’d still go through the list, just in case they are different here in Europe.”

“That is very thoughtful of you, you have my thanks.”

If that wasn’t Genji flushing and heavily fighting a genuine smile… Zenyatta glanced at his brother but froze on his spot since the older Tekhartha’s eyes were already glued on him from his peripheral sight, face still turned to Genji and as usual his expression was peaceful, serene. But he had his eyes on Zenyatta. 

When the smallest wink of Mondatta’s right eye signalled the beginning of his plan, Zenyatta’s heart clenched in pure worry. He stood, his moves in synch with Genji’s agile footwork to open the cabinet under the sink with his toes so he could deposit the soaked tea leaves in the biological trash bin.

“Allow me to ask Genji, have you gotten any proposals or… offers?”

Experiencing an icy, electrifying shudder that he fought against with all his will and determination, Zenyatta slowly turned back to look at Mondatta with his eyes wide with horror, not even caring if he looked like a deer caught in headlights to his brother. At least he knew his expression was under control when he turned back, so to Genji he could only look like he felt cold. The trembling anxiety gripped his entire middle and ribcage however and involuntarily, instinctively he walked beside Genji as if to check on what he was doing. Ah, Zenyatta wondered, why did Mondatta have to ask…?

His hand trembled as he held onto the counter, only a few feet away from his friend, blood freezing in surprise when the engineer looked perplexed, almost frightened as if Mondatta had asked about him getting married.

“Wh… what proposals, from whom?” He sputtered, eyes darting at the monk.

The man on the other side of the kitchen gently tilted his head in reply, “after your recent publication…?”

It dawned on Genji yet unexpectedly he just gave a dismissive wave of his hand, “oh! It’s not published just yet, technically. When it will be in January I’m sure I’ll get some offers and invitations.”

The rhythmic beat of his heart became an almost unbearable pressure in Zenyatta’s throat, especially as his eyes were glued on Genji’s expressions while attempting to be as secretive and subtle about it as he could. 

The man’s gaze seemed to grow distant for a few moments as one does during a close self-inspection. After a couple of seconds feeling like eternity had passed, Genji’s quieter, deeper and more solemn voice uttered, “I’m not sure. Not like I’d go anywhere.”

Straining his iron-tight grip on his emotions, Zenyatta carefully measured and monitored his tone not to come out too hopeful yet allow a drop of surprise in it, “how come? These are once in a lifetime opportunities, Genji.”

The man beside him, just within an arm's reach yet distant like a brightly shining lighthouse through the mist, stood straighter with troubled lines on his forehead. Life had given him another equation he couldn’t solve no matter how many formulas he’d try, in the end it’d have to be him having the final word. With a hint of irritation in his sigh, Genji raised his gaze from the floor up to Zenyatta and to the shorter man’s relief, the troubled lines eased a bit.

“I don’t know. I have everything right here,” he visibly stopped himself in the middle of a shrug yet his eyes didn’t leave Zenyatta’s as he continued, voice coming out sharper and deeper as he intended, “for once, stop doubting me.”

“We don’t question your judgement,” inwardly Zenyatta could not be grateful enough for his brother’s tone, a calming, soothing balm for both him and Genji. “We’d like the best for you, and wish to understand you better. Tell us, what’s on your mind?”

The sharp flash of pain in Genji’s eyes hadn’t gone unnoticed by the other, yet Zenyatta couldn’t help but release a weak sigh as the man looked in his eyes once more, deeply and genuinely apologetic.

“I’m sorry for my manners. I didn’t mean to be rude,” he plead with his hazelnut eyes,  _ specially not to you _ .

“You weren’t. I understand,” Zenyatta replied simply, chestnut ablaze with fondness.  _ I know. _

The self-blame was evident even to Mondatta who sat meters away and only observed as Genji frowned in pain and held his closer hand out towards Zenyatta, his palm facing up in a luring gesture. As the hesitant hand slightly wavered mid-air then descended down to the counter alone, Genji apparently forewent his inhibitions by turning to Mondatta’s brother with his full body to step closer and just by the slightest tilt of his head aside, arms halfway open, allow something only for Zenyatta to be seen. Moving spontaneously without a single thought crossing his mind the shorter man reached out and closed the gap between them. 

As he sank into Genji’s embrace, Zenyatta’s hands wound around his love’s middle, letting the other envelope his broader arms around his shoulders, pulling him into a profound hold where he had to lie his head onto the man’s collarbone. His mind returned not a second later, questioning and burrowing in thought, what had upset Genji so fiercely? 

He could sense, feel Genji’s aura gradually ease as the engineer inhaled and continued to hold him, croaky voice directly by Zenyatta’s ear.

“I’m sorry for being so defensive,” he began with continued hold around Zenyatta for another few moments. “It’s not because of you.”

When they let each other go and their gazes met, the shorter man’s hands found the edge of the counter once more as if to anchor himself to it while Genji affectionately patted him on the shoulder. A gesture, an attempt to be friendly yet he only took a small step away before casting his hazelnut gaze into Mondatta’s sympathetic, thoughtful eyes. 

“I don’t know how much you’ve been told Mondatta, and I don’t remember talking about this to you,” as Genji began in a much steadier tone, Zenyatta’s mind quickly caught up with the pace and he focused all his attention to his love. “But the first twenty-three years of my life was pre written for me like screenplay. I only had one option and that was to obey, no questions asked. Now, without anyone to arrange my fate…” his gaze drew distant as he recollected his thoughts, “I mean, now that for probably the first time I finally have authority over my own life, now that I have a chance in making a decision about it, I’d like to do what my intuition tells me. I never truly had a chance like this before.”

Mondatta smiled, which led to a content sigh from him, “it is a wise decision, listening to your intuition. So, what does it tell you? We would like to know.”

Genji’s gaze wandered to the floor’s sandy white tiles again in deep concentration and the two other men patiently waited for him to emerge from the depth of his mind, from the place where one truly listens to their core. 

That is, until a small yet certain smirk curled on the man’s lips and his eyes were in an instant united with Zenyatta’s anticipant, hopeful gaze. 

There, Mondatta saw from the telltale curling of Genji’s fingertips into his palms, the way his entire body momentarily shifted yet fell back into the previous posture by the counter, from the way his eyes saw nothing, nobody else in the room but his brother. Upon shifting his oaken eyes onto Zenyatta, the older Tekhartha immediately retreated his gaze and instead quickly looked at the still steaming tea in the cups.

Warm chestnut hope shone back at Genji with unrestrained anticipation and the man needed to reclaim control over his entire body vehemently pulling on uncharted strings of his heart. Feeling a nearly undeniable draw in his fingertips, his ribcage rattling in the hammering of his heart Genji could barely, barely resist taking Zenyatta’s noble, soft cheek into his palm and hug him with this newfound reassurance, which spread into all pits of his being down to the deepest core like ivy aflame. Not the right time, but the certainty was unmistakable.

“I’ll stay. Here’s all I ever needed.”

. . .

Mondatta felt the divine need to groan and bury his face into his palms. For the sake of Zenyatta’s heart, he didn’t. He waited until their moment passed and carefully stood to collect his tea from the counter.

Both of them are hopeless, he mentally concluded. This was worse than watching Turkish historical telenovela with their mother. 

. . .

somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond   
any experience,your eyes have their silence:   
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,   
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

(i do not know what it is about you that closes   
and opens;only something in me understands   
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)   
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands

E.E. Cummings - somewhere I have never travelled, gladly beyond

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... yes. This chapter was quite short but I hope it was worth it. :D What are your thoughts? Tell me everything! :O


	13. Harmony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Intermission. Zenyatta and Mondatta go to the central hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish to give more insight. I hope you will like it.

Mondatta had expected several situations to occur when they arrived at the county’s central hospital, namely the nurses and doctors being hesitant to allow them inside the wards; even if he knew Zenyatta attended the institution at least once a month. It never happened. His brother was an anticipated guest in several departments and now with Mondatta accompanying him the young scholar was delighted to show his brother around once again as they proceeded down the main halls. Their first stop would be the neurology department’s children’s ward. 

When Zenyatta mentioned that his brother would come along and it’d be the two of them reading for the children, the nurse on the line was so delighted she’d immediately called to other departments as well to make a list for the visiting brothers. After they started on the neurology departments’ children’s ward, they would move to the next.

He’d always been fascinated by the sheer size of the building and how great many people it could serve without stopping for a single moment. He couldn’t wrap his head around the countless troubles so many people had to stop by or be delivered; the misery and transitory existence pouring from all directions easily overwhelmed his senses.

As they reached the end of the main hall and arrived to the elevators, Mondatta noticed the same kind of empathy behind Zenyatta’s hardened gaze. Before their arrival to the right floor he chose to spoke in their mother tongue to him.

“Steel your heart for them. We are to bring joy and peace for them.”

His younger brother replied with a few nods although Mondatta’s message did not truly reach his heart. When they left the elevator and pushed through the right fireproof doors, before a larger two-winged gate Zenyatta did open his mouth to speak but at first nothing came through. 

With the gentle, patient tilt of his head to the left, Mondatta’s eyes fondly committed Zenyatta’s profile into his memory, as he often did. The literary scholar’s voice was quiet and almost raspy as he spoke, “could you please… bless this place?”

“Zenyatta… there are so many mindful people here, tending to the needy. Some do it for material reasons, yes, but many do feel and share love and kindness as they continue to help each day.”

“Please,” the other’s chestnut gaze plead in sorrow.

“Their love is the acceptance of how things are, let them be relatives or staff members. They are ready to adapt and respond to the changes in an instant, an unconditional acceptance to how things go… this unconditional acceptance of them, this is expressed through their tireless activity. Now, we will join them in this activity and offer kindness. Love is acceptance, kindness is activity, remember.”

“I wish they wouldn’t be here in the first place. They are children. Only… just, simply children.”

“And we are here for them. Brother, accept how things are now, let your mind anchor you with me in the present. Now, we will go and read tales for children, we will listen to whatever they wish to tell us. We will accept their wishes and decisions as we go, in harmony with them. Our minds will be in loving peace with them, our actions showing them all kindness our hearts can take. We are here to help, brother. Loving and kind, we are helping and we will meditate for them later.”

The diminutive spark was alite soon as the thought dawned on Zenyatta, his grateful and adoring smile gradually spreading his lips before he enveloped Mondatta in a tender hug.

“Oh, Mondatta, you’re wonderful.”

The older Tekhartha simply replied with a laugh rumbling from the depth of his chest as his hands gently patted his brother’s sides, “remember the teachings, Zenyatta. They are wonderful. I know you only wish to help and of course we can tell a few mantras to those who accept them but first you have to remember. Thank you for bringing me here with you.”

When they parted, Zenyatta’s gaze was still troubled but for another reason.

“I just hope we can help. It sometimes happens that… they just don’t want me to come, some kids think I do this from pity. Those times I need to be careful with my words, and you too.”

“I will remember this.”

“Also, sometimes they just start crying or talking in the middle of a story.”

“I’m sure we will do our best to listen.”

“If one of them asks for snow… the window handles are taken off for safety reasons, you can find it on the top shelf of their wardrobes. Give them snow from the windowsill.”

“Thank you, I will.”

Zenyatta pushed the button beside the gate and visibly recollected his thoughts one more time. 

. . .

There were numerous English-speaking children in the hospital and as the nurse promised she’d collected a list of those kids who wished for the Tekhartha brothers to visit them. The list consisted of more than twenty children and as Zenyatta’s eyes ran through the list his heart bittersweetly chimed as a few familiar names were shown on the paper.

Upon their gazes uniting Mondatta nodded with determination. As long as their vocal chords could go, they’d do their best to visit and talk with everyone. They’d go from ward to ward and from the borrowed tablets of the establishment or the doctors themselves they’d read whatever stories the children would ask for since according to Zenyatta’s and the staff’s experience, the young ones quickly grew tired or unmotivated to read the books their relatives would bring for them. 

Looking at the list and quickly discussing the way their tour would go, Zenyatta felt strength, confidence and faith return to him bit by bit. If he could do something right, that was reading literature and helping people see, live through different lives for irreplaceable, indefinite spans of time. 

Kirsi almost jumped off the bed with her tiny puffy hands up in the air, overjoyed, had she not been caught by her mother. The kind yet exhausted Finnish lady gently fixed the IV’s line as she tucked her four years old daughter back in the bed even though the pretty little lady kept calling for Zenyatta to come closer. “Zen-yatta! There is the chair for you, just come awready! Quick-ley!”

As he kept the tablet close to his chest with an involuntary smile shining with happiness, Zenyatta crossed the distance and settled beside his small friend. After glancing at her mother for permission (which she gave by quick and small nods in a natural manner) he reached and with the gentlest moves of his fingers, took the tiny hand into his palm. 

“Kirsi, how have you been?”

“Oh, I’ve been  _ great! _ I got owange and chocolate pudding from Daddy.”

Kirsi’s mother repressed an amused smile at the exclamation, tipping her head as if saying, ‘well, that’s one way to look at things’ while Zenyatta’s genuine surprise had the little girl nod appreciatively.

“That’s wonderful!” 

“Mom got me new coloring books too and I kept one that I finished, for you! Take it!”

Oh, Zenyatta’s heart melted on the spot. “That’s most kind of you, Kirsi!”

“Thank you, I know. It’s full of flowers and butterflies and it reminded me of you.”

In a sudden rush of emotions Zenyatta raised a hesitant hand to cover his lips as his eyes couldn’t handle the gratefulness mixed with delight spreading all over his being. Such a gift! Such a selfless, caring girl…

“I’m so happy, Kirsi. Thank you very much.”

“You’re  _ welcome, _ ” she nodded again, blond locks following her pretty oval features. “They also said that if I can pull off this week without any more trouble I could go home for the weekend.”

“She is doing very well in physiotherapy,” her mother quickly intercepted for Zenyatta, her bright blue eyes equally hopeful yet reserved.

“This is great news! I truly hope you’ll be better, I know you’re doing your best.”

She had a great temperament, Zenyatta greatly enjoyed every minute he could spend with her. When he finally got to read, she requested a book about pirates and even then couldn’t stop asking Zenyatta to look at her, to hold her hand and tell his opinion about her coloring books. It took some time until her mind gradually came down from her elation, the simple joy of having Zenyatta visiting her. When her patience and anticipation for the story found her, Kirsi listened as if in a trance, eyes glued on Zenyatta’s expressions and she lolled her pretty head left and right when he sang her a childish pirate-song from the tale. 

Unexpectedly, when the entire pirate ship’s crew was swallowed by a sea monster, she clapped her hands and laughed, sing-song, “haha, they’re nommed by the nommster!”

Kirsi’s mother hid her eyes behind her palm but her emotional, sentimental smile restored faith and confidence in Zenyatta’s heart.

The little girl was quite exhausted by the end of his visit from all the excitement, the concentration which came with listening and the wonders her pretty imagination painted for her. With his heart aching yet time pressuring him to go, Zenyatta promised to visit again as soon as his schedule would allow him. Kirsi was a drop of sunshine in this world just like all kids in the establishment and luckily, sadly, Zenyatta was grateful to have ever met her. 

In the following hours he’d visited many, many such sparkling wonders… and doubtful, wary, worn-out children who had to be adults way too early.

The memory of him helping a lonely boy fall asleep by holding his hand remained a scorching reminder for years. He’d read him a child-friendly translation of Odysseia as per request. He initially refused to sleep even though his visitor’s heart clenched in worry as he saw the boy’s grey and baggy expression dart at him. The brave young man called Noah was warily blinking at him from the other side of the hospital room, unbearable, motionless fatigue painted all over him in dark shades and yet he waited for Zenyatta to show up. He was a doubter, that boy, even as Zenyatta caressed his hand and sat only half a metre away from him, Noah questioned if he truly came just to read for him? 

He had to steel his heart and smile with as much compassion as he could when his own eyes were swallowed by the eternal and endless sorrow in the boy’s gaze. 

Soon after the literary scholar began, his reading blanketed Noah in tranquility, a companionable voice tenderly reassuring its presence. Not a few pages later, the young boy’s chest began to rise and fall in a slower, steadier rhythm as his mind sank deeper into another world, another existence. 

The first time he visited, Noah was silent the entire time and only muttered his request to listen. The second time, his frozen shell melted and during the time Zenyatta read to him Noah broke down in desperate crying to confess he was afraid of sleeping. His entire body was shaking from agony and distress, the fear of falling unconscious and not having any control over his own thoughts, his own mind and body any longer. Zenyatta had let the boy cling to his hand first then hugged him as long as Noah continued to grasp at him and his breathing quieted down. He was one of the strongest, most stubborn people Zenyatta had ever met.

Now, with Zenyatta’s voice serving as background for his adventures on the Aegean seas, Noah closed his eyes and his peaceful expression calmed Zenyatta’s worries. The boy felt safe, anchored and cared for in his company. 

Before leaving him sound asleep and finally relaxing under the white covers, he remembered changing the DVD in the player on the top of the tall shelves as Noah requested. He wished to watch the Iron Giant. 

As he walked out to the corridor he consciously excluded all thoughts about how Noah would feel upon waking to an empty room. 

He only noticed Genji’s text later around lunchtime. 

10.25. Genji: “ _ u okay? We watch disney tonight? _ ”

For a few moments Zenyatta couldn’t help but smile at his friend’s thoughtful offer. 

11.41 Reply to Genji: “ _ that would be nice. Take care. _ ”

11.45. Genji: “ _ I will make dinner. Take care, take your time.” _

. . .

He found his soon-to-be sworn monk brother playing with play-dough with a bright young girl. With great joy and gratefulness Mondatta told him how he had fetched snow for a boy called Carlos and ended up showing pictures about his homeland to another, a particularly curious teenager by the name Mikko. 

He described how the young man had broken the base of his spine in an accident and Mondatta’s appearance proved to be the final push for him to pick learning languages and meeting cultures as his new, chosen path for the rest of his life. On the spot he learned basic Nepali expressions with surprising accuracy in pronunciation and asked for his visitor to tell him more about his culture and the history of his people rather than reading a story. Mondatta especially liked how directly, barely giving him any pause, Mikko kept asking him questions such as, “so, who are you? What’s your name? Where do you come from? What is your mother tongue? Can I see where you come from? Can you show me pictures? Can you sing?”

Knowing his brother’s endless generosity and selflessness at bringing kindness into people’s lives, Zenyatta was certain that Mondatta had given extensive and deliberate answers for the curious man’s thirst for knowledge.

He’d also braided a girl’s hair at her request and fetched snow for another so she could experience the touch of frozen ice flakes again. 

Needless to say by the end of the day their vocal chords were barely functioning with a seemingly insatiable thirst for ginger tea or honey. They were only allowed to leave after a truly heartfelt, appreciative embrace from the nurses and a few doctors even, their elevated spirits and happiness contagious to the brothers as they walked with soaring hearts and bright smiles back to the elevators and down to the main halls. 

As he spaced out, mind thoroughly occupied with how great their entire day went, bringing a moment of caring, happiness and peace to those children, Zenyatta’s eyes barely noticed the man wearing a black bomber jacket around the gates of the Endocrinology departments. An entire organ of the hospital that was, with several wings attached to a large building connecting to the main body of the facility. The man’s sharp eyes were tense yet as their gazes briefly met, he gave a brisk raise of a palm at them and that was how Zenyatta’s attention was pulled to him. 

“Mr. Reyes!” He called and instantly looked over to Mondatta, “Genji’s teacher and one of his bosses. Come, let’s introduce you!”

His brother nodded with a genuine smile and as they approached, Gabriel Reyes pulled the glove off his right hand to properly shake hands with Mondatta after his quite business-like greeting.

“Tekhartha, Mondatta, pleased to meet you.”

“Reyes, Gabriel, same here,” the tall man nodded downwards at them and at once Zenyatta felt one semblance of the might and authority this man could truly command just by his eyes and smallest facial expressions. In a moment’s time the black leather glove was back on his hand. “I didn’t expect to see you here, I admit. Is something the matter or are you visiting someone?”

The question coming from Mr. Reyes, who’d barely spoke to Zenyatta only a dozen times through the years, placed a spark of appreciation in the younger man’s heart. 

“We visited the children, read them stories and had a great time with them. It’s been exhausting…” Zenyatta cleared his throat and spoke once his voice returned for a short time again, “but immeasurably rewarding.”

“Bringing peace, joy and harmony is its own reward,” Mondatta added, nodding in agreement with his brother while Reyes’s eyes swept across their faces again. His gaze visibly softened as he gave an almost disbelieving shake of his head and mumbled something under his nose Zenyatta couldn’t quite catch. 

“How about you, Mr. Reyes? We sincerely hope you and your family are safe and in good health.”

At once the researcher’s gaze hardened once more as if the previous sentiment would be a momentary setback. His eyes were once again on Zenyatta and didn’t carry any spite while his voice did, “I’m waiting for my doctor to grace me with his arrival. Apparently neither he or diabetes care if I had plans for the weekend. Needed to come for a check up after having problems lately.”

“Accept our honest sympathy, Mr. Reyes. We will pray for your health,” Mondatta promised, earning a surprised but nonetheless appreciative nod of the man’s head towards them in a thankful gesture.

“Thank you. That is very kind of you.” Lips pursed in a tense line, his gaze ran across the two shorter and smaller men once more. “Now that we are here I must ask, is Genji here too?”

When Mr. Reyes shifted his gaze onto him with a permanently etched frown on his features and expecting an instant answer, Zenyatta replied with a smile.

“No, he is snowboarding with the others.”

A look of concern and sudden sharp awareness crossed the larger, powerful man’s face; a calculating sharpness that was characteristically Mr. Reyes-like in Zenyatta’s opinion. The aging professor’s voice was tense and even as he only asked, “is Jack with them?”

“I am certain he is.”

“Not good enough. They are adults alright but accidents can happen. I’ll call him to make sure he’s there, someone should be watching over them even if there is a medical crew at the ski centre. Forgive me, I need to call Jack right now, before someone hurts themselves…” with that he’d already fished his phone from the bomber jacket’s pocket and with a final look at them, politely nodded at both Tekharthas. “It was a pleasure to meet you Mr. Mondatta. Good day to you both.”

Reyes wasn’t someone to waste anyone’s time including his own, once Genji told his friend and now Zenyatta clearly saw why. The man held all his responsibilities and duties top priority even above personal matters; hence he was just a moment ago waiting for his doctor, now Reyes was dialling Morrison and waited for the man to pick up. 

As they left the hospital and began to walk home, he explained to Mondatta that Gabriel Reyes was often misunderstood for his business-like attitude and tight leash on young geniuses which in truth only meant that he was invested in someone’s and his faculty’ success. He surrounded himself only with people whom he believed in and not for a second did he waste any time for non-important people. He was the kind who looked people in the eye and saw their worth, their potential  _ and _ how he could effectively make them reach even beyond those. 

Mondatta agreed when Zenyatta concluded, “Mr. Reyes is an amazingly inspiring man when it comes to tending to his own crop of academia. He wouldn’t be so harsh at times if he didn’t believe so fiercely that his students could do much better.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a tribute to academics and researchers with permanent illnesses, for their exemplary perseverance and determination which demands respect and acknowledgement.


	14. The Dragon Awakens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Far from Finland, Hanzo is pondering on his continuous insomnia. In the small hours of dawn, a memory brings another thought to his mind which quickly grows into determination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *peeks in* is anyone still here...

He spaced out again, for the third time within half an hour. Regardless of the approaching dawn and the clock ticking mercilessly on the screens of his laptops, the man focused his attention and gaze once more on the databases and flow of stock percentage charts in front of him. Wearing yesterday’s black dress shirt and tomorrow’s burdens, Hanzo weighed his options about trying to get a few hours sleep or skipping it until next afternoon.

Glancing down at the laptop’s internal clock, he wasn’t surprised at all to see the numbers 2:41. With a deep breath he calmed his fatigued heartbeat and decided to stand and open a window for a few moments, even though the internal vents on the ceiling were supposed to provide fresh air. For an indefinite amount of time he did nothing else but stand by the wall, elbows lazily resting on the windowsill as his exhausted yet still sharp, analytic gaze swept over the buzz of the city below. Like the beat of his heart with its fatigued ache, the constant ticking of the clock didn’t leave a moment’s rest to his mind and soon Hanzo’s lips tensed into a thin line, brows furrowing in a dominant, commanding scowl.

There was a low-key buzz around him, an almost inaudible hum of some machine or construction which didn’t allow him to fully empty his mind. A sorrowful, deep hum from somewhere not quite tangible yet very much present around him. But then again, it could be his over-exerted mind beginning to play tricks on him.

Hanzo took another deep breath from the chilly night air as he pocketed his hands in his tailored black slacks and let his gaze wander around the tall bookshelves on the far end of his office. One of them stood out like a fully stacked monstrosity; the shelf which hadn’t been touched for decades now. He hadn’t allowed anyone to lay a finger on it. 

Solemn, contemplative yet determined, the man crossed his office in casual yet measured strides to stand before the tall bookshelf and face the titles, folders, albums, calendars… memories of a long gone man towering above him. Countless documents, contracts, licences and records were stored there; all that his father left only for him  _ and Genji _ to come back to in their time of need. This tall shelf was his own personal legacy, separate from the clan’s.  

For a long time, he did nothing else but consider how his pride and vanity had blinded his judgement, fueled by the council’s poisonous influence over the years. During the last few decades, he’d neglected the tall shelf out of the illusion of unmatched power. 

Once a dragon; now he was merely a human, a son gazing at his father’s unrivaled greatness at the early hours of the dawn when the world around him was still blanketed in darkness. His eyes read the familiar words without really seeing them, countless lines of kanji done by a neat, precise hand which wasn’t his own. The low humming of a lingering ghost around him reminded him of a tune. 

As to experiment and catch the note of the sound around him, Hanzo’s answering hum gently vibrated in his ribcage, coming from deep within, from the lowest pits of his lungs. Loneliness in these hours was a blessing. He longed for sleep but it wouldn’t grace him these days.

His eyes settled on a middle sized, black hard cover book two shelves above him, and with a contemplative tilt of his head he realized that its title was missing from its bind. Hanzo reached up and took it into his hands, fingertips hyper-aware of the decades-old parched cover being rough and, he realised as he ran his thumb softly along the edge, surprisingly high quality cotton. A gift. 

He flipped the cover and barely registered shooing the rebellious hair out of his sight with a breath as a completely empty page welcomed him. Perplexity shone in the dark pits of the dragon’s eyes. Another page ran beneath his fingers, the paper thick and dense, almost scolding with its purity. 

Hanzo hummed again, deep in thought as his head bent to the other side, the loose breath of jet black hair lolling along with his moves. His father had left an empty book for him. 

It was just another involuntary move of his hand, an instinctive motion anyone else would’ve done. He leafed through the rest of the book, pages running under his thumb like numbers on his laptop screen. And then… his eyes spotted it.

Hanzo nearly dropped the book. His heart beat off-key with a sharp sting and all his thoughts froze on the axis of time for a few seconds. 

Fingers faster than his own thoughts, he opened the very last page and felt the suffocating tightness convulse, constrict his entire ribcage along with his aching throat and even his eyesight. He blinked once, gaze and breath quivering as the overwhelming recognition settled in his consciousness. 

His eyes widened in genuine yet bittersweet awe as the tentative, cold and shivering tip of his index finger ran across the design. Lines made by pencil, stocky and determined yet barely resembling a supposedly human being. 

The creator of the drawings couldn’t be older than three or four… and it could only be one person. Nearly thirty years ago.

On another page, another stocky, hippo-like creature greeted him with accentuated button eyes and pudgy legs. It had a wavy yet nonetheless convincing smile. Surrounding it, attempts at copying easy hiraganas.

Hanzo recognized the deep rumble in his chest as the beginning of a slow and timid chuckle. These weren’t his drawings, oh he had known that in the instant he saw the pages. His heart ached in longing, fingertips caressing the lines where once Genji’s tiny hands had moved. His little brother’s puffy hands, almost thirty years ago.

An attempt at a flower, this time a shaky long line across the paper with a few bumpy circles on the top. The next page had a better version, the petals were now surrounding the bud in the middle, coal coloring the chunky leaves and the smiling, long and oversized worm. 

Long ago a small, plump hand held the pencil in a fist, drawing another and this time angry eyed four-legged creature with large, emphasized black stripes and bulge-like body. A tiger?

Hanzo’s weakening heart demanded that he sit while his eyes fought a losing battle against the wetness threatening to spill. His brother’s drawings were right here under his very fingers. His hand clutched at the black book as he strode to his office desk and pulled the chair away from it, away from his life, into the corner by the window. He closed it before settling down comfortably in a lazy posture with an ankle resting on his knee, smoothing his midnight blue dress shirt with a quick swipe. 

_ Genji _ , his lips uttered a futile plea, almost instantly evaporating in the night-time silence. He drew into their father’s book, a gift at that… perhaps he wanted to give his own drawings as presents too. His sweet, cheerful and forever curious brother with the green scarf their mother knit for him, at the age when he barely reached their father’s thighs. Pitter-patter of soft feet on the corridors, bubbling laughs full of sunshine. Ticklish everywhere.

Hanzo’s fatigued eyes pictured Genji’s still slightly puffy hands and fingers grasping at the pencil as his brows furrowed in concentration while drawing - most likely in secret - into a black book that was more than certainly a gift from someone to their father. And he kept it. Their father kept this and passed it down to Hanzo.

Hanzo had long since acknowledged that he couldn’t bear the memory of their father’s fond, loving gaze from the suffocating guilt and shame he carried. The late leader of the corporation had loved both of his sons from the bottom of his heart and yet had lived a bound and chained life just like Hanzo did now. He had tried to be with them, reassure them of his unconditional support and love, and prepare them for the time he wouldn’t be there to shelter his sons. 

And Hanzo knew his father would be grieving from shame and disappointment if he knew what his older son had become. The present leader of the corporation screwed his eyes shut in agony, the unbearable, suffocating weight of failures pressuring his entire being.

He’d failed his father, failed to guard his memory and honor. Failed to keep his own word when his father had made him swear on his life to protect and love his own brother. Little Genji, curious and free sparrow hawk, full of life and adventure.

It was him, only Hanzo who allowed the council to go so far and announce his brother a nuisance, disgrace… and ultimately, dead to the council and the family. 

And  _ he _ let it happen, to be manipulated by them to the very edge of his sanity. 

He’d cast out his own brother. The deed left him behind a lone dragon, devoured by the council’s manipulation and losing almost a decade from his life. Almost nine years had gone by, ruled under silence between the brothers, cold as their father’s grave.

The council poisoned his mind to the point when Hanzo couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe without shame and guilt devouring his senses from the inside while he lived like a precisely installed, constantly monitored machine only functioning for corporate needs. He’d lost more than any other person would surely allow, let the sacrifices climb too high.

In the end he was alone in the lowest pits of his personal layer of hell, living a deconstructed, pre-written existence which would ultimately bring his untimely end like his father’s, and his father’s before him. Even worse, unlike his ancestors Hanzo had no family to call his own, to retreat to and draw strength from. Ever since he’d gone through the purge of his brother from the family, their mother only seldom allowed him to visit their ancestral home. 

He only had himself, a lone dragon.

His cold, shivering fingers were insufficient to ease the constricting pain in his temples and once more Hanzo noticed the low, humming sound thrumming in the very core of his being. From somewhere deep, from the pit of his heart where even he didn’t dare look.

A voice cut through the darkness.

_ “No more.” _

Gaze hardening in sheer willpower, determination and crystal clear power, Hanzo’s coarse voice echoed the line this time along with the other. Commanding, consuming, all-devouring within his being.

“No more.”

Newfound energy surged through his veins as he inhaled a scorching breath, deep into his lungs, fingers tightening around the black book’s covers. The man’s smoldering gaze pinned at his laptops then at the clock on the wall. 3:05

His ribcage thrummed with the heavy pounding of his heart sending vibrations up to his jaw and deep within his core. He’d been bound and strained far too long. A dragon is most dangerous in the moment of chains snapping. 

Genji’s voice cut through the maze of his mind.

_ Perhaps I am a fool, to think there is still hope for you. But I do. Think on that, brother. _

If Hanzo wanted to live his own life, he’d better get started with reclaiming his honor. He’d do well splintering the screws of his cage and bare the claws once more.

The dragon awakened with stirring purpose within him, hand pressing the book close to his chest as if it’d be his most guarded treasure.

“Genji,” he heard his own voice mutter in a reminder.

Not a moment later Hanzo strode to his desk and checked his calendar, one hand still grasping at the book holding Genji’s childhood drawings while his eyes scorched the indignant laptop screen for being so full of colors and appointments. His entire next month was full.

_ My brother may be dead to the clan but he is very much alive to me. I am not the clan. _

_ He is out there, in another reality which he’d offered to me. _

Hanzo’s breath and blood chilled with his heart pounding against his ribcage as he realized, he wouldn’t see his brother for at least another two months. 

_ There is never enough time. We only keep losing more. _

Until the idea dawned on him.

He pressed the hotkey on his keyboard and asked in English, “Siri, what’s the time in Finland?”

“In Helsinki, Finland, it’s 9:07 pm.”

Hanzo’s thumb brushed across the book’s cover in a gesture almost affectionate as he picked up his phone with his free hand. 

“If I can’t visit and see him, at least I can hear his voice,” he stated as much to himself as to the book, warm and hopeful in his hold. He never called Genji on the phone before. Would he even answer it? 

The line rang with Hanzo’s heart throbbing in his throat, his breath halted until the connection clicked and for a couple of seconds he heard nothing else but the static mingling with his own thundering heartbeat. His fingers clutched at the book containing his brother’s drawings. 

“...Hanzo?” Genji’s voice dripped with worry, a tone which glued all sound inside Hanzo’s throat. He was surprised at his own almost disbelieved uttering of the other’s name in reply. For a few moments his brother was silent. “Are you okay?”

The bones in Hanzo’s fingers cracked from the effort of him holding the book so tight.

“Yes.”

The thundering of his heartbeat gradually lessened as he cleared his throat and blinked a few times in attempt to draw himself back to reality. “And you? How are you?”

As it turned out, it wasn’t only him needing to clear his throat and take a steadying breath. Genji had to start twice to get his vocal chords working. “I… I’m good. I’m… very well. I spend the winter break at Zenyatta’s place, Mondatta is also here from Nepal.”

For another few seconds neither of them spoke, Hanzo eagerly waiting for whatever Genji would deem worthy for him to know. Such as, who was this Mondatta person? Probably a relative to Zenyatta? Hanzo longed to hear more of Genji’s voice, chirping bits and pieces of his world. As the younger man felt the silence coming between them, he decided to break it.

“Oh, and I’m really getting published twice, the earliest date is the end of January! I’m so happy, Hanzo, it’s-- it’s just… ah,” Genji’s line succumbed into a hearty, light chuckle, “it’ll be awesome when it comes out.”

“Like you?” His voice was quicker than his own mind.

In the following few seconds of quietness, smug humor glistened in the eyes of the dragon with his breath held in anticipation for Genji’s tight, murmured reply into the phone.

“Hanzo! You just had to…? Really?”

“Strike at the heart.”

“Well-- it’s good that you know. Technically speaking I  _ am _ out...”

His reply was a simple  _ tsk _ with the tip of his tongue against his palate behind his teeth.

“Haaanzo… you’re impossible. Thank the gods you weren’t on loudspeaker,” Genji absent-mindedly added to his initial nagging.

Somewhere deep in his ribcage a forgotten familiarity ached, spreading warmth and joy into long abandoned chambers of his heart. Tentative light seeped rejuvenation into his soul, and Hanzo wasn’t even sure when he began smiling… in the darkness of the approaching dawn above Tokyo, the man’s newest inhale liberated his thoughts.

“Hanzo, is everything alright?”

His fingertips brushed against the black book. His little brother’s drawing of a tiger appeared in his mind and the wave of overwhelming longing, saudade. To think his brother in the present days still believed there was hope for him, to restore what they’d lost and live up to and beyond their potential, coexisting in harmony. Experiencing life to its fullest, together.

_ A lone dragon is the easiest prey _ his father’s voice echoed from a bygone time _. The two of you, together, you’re unequaled. _

Moments passed before he could muster a reply, inwardly noting how patient Genji was with him on the other side of the line.

“Yes. I’ve been… thinking, lately.”

He could imagine how his brother’s lips parted in anticipation and awe from the sound of his inhale barely above the static. 

“There is never enough time, Genji. We shouldn’t waste any more of it.”

“You’re right,” his brother replied without missing a beat.

Silence settled on the line as the newfound strength and power returned to his heart but this time with another wave stronger, combined with Genji’s support. Hanzo could feel it all surge and seep through his entire being, refilling his depleted veins and core. Stretching the binds, claws unsheathed, coiling like a starved and parched dragon finally regaining his potential.

Genji’s almost smug, yet deep humming called his mind back to the line.

“Show them your worth, Hanzo.”

“I’ll call again. I have many things to do yet.”

“ A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step*. Walk in peace, brother.”

When Hanzo hung up, he lowered his gaze at the laptops’ screens. His eyes were never more alive, endless pits of an abyss with the promise of smoldering hell for anyone who’d dare to challenge his authority. His thumb caressed the book and with it, Genji’s treasured drawings still tightly held against his chest. 

Reality was a matter of perspectives, Hanzo decided. Life’s only worth was living it by the right ones.

 

_ In the world without color,  _

_ I have been waiting for you until God forgives me. _

 

Murasaki Shikibu - Tale of Genji

 

*Laozi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, and thank you again for reading. As you see, there are many things happening at the same time and we are probably at the most peaceful parts right now. With the holiday spirit around us, I'll let you guys digest the soon upcoming end of Book One and prepare for Book Two. It is in the making (and coming along nicely ^^) and I'd like to give a huge hug and high-five to everyone who's still here reading and/or commenting. You're wonderful, and your support is a huge kick when I have the downhills of self-doubt. Thank you so much! There will be two more chapters before the end of Book One so you will have plenty to read. :)


	15. Relevations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there, and thank you for sticking around and reading. This is the second-to-last chapter of Book One, and I hope you will like it. :) I'd like to thank everyone who wrote me a comment or left kudos, it helps a lot in going forward! :) Also, Siberian bear hugs for Ruriska for her patience and great beta skills <3

During the winter breaks the university resembled an extensive machine not quite functioning as it usually would. Of course, winter in Finland was unforgiving and not only the large piles of snow but the merciless frost made the locals prefer to stay inside their homes and only leave when absolutely necessary. The residents liked to call this period of time ‘hibernation’, a few months spent with relaxation in the warm shelter of their houses, wearing woolen, knit articles of clothing and sipping warm cocoa by the fireplace. It was no different for the local community of academics.

Some students or visiting scholars didn’t have the means to travel home this time of the year; the airplane ticket prices skyrocketed already two months before Christmas and with the celebrations approaching slowly all airlines’ were fully packed with passengers. There was a time when Zenyatta and Genji were among such students until Zenyatta’s mother had changed things to their currently working system. Now either her or Mondatta would come to visit the boys in Finland, as the matriarch of the Tekharthas considered Genji a part of her rather extensive family.

Of course Genji remembered the first time staying for the holiday, already an outcast of his own family. During the second year of his Masters’ program Mr. Morrison had kindly invited him over for the holy night. The professor was immeasurably thoughtful when it came to herding his lost flock of students to his house outside of town and have all his PhD students attend as well. Needless to say, Genji did feel out of his element in the beginning of the gathering but without attending Mr. Morrison’s Christmas event, he probably never would have had such an engaging and inspiring discussion with Satya or about the future of mechatronics and robotics engineering.

Looking around and taking inventory of his surroundings in the present however, Genji felt the content waves of gratefulness fill his limbs and bloom with warmth in his chest. Zenyatta was just within an arm’s reach beside him, grading papers on the other side of the couch wrapped up in a fleece blanket while his chai honey-latte cooled on the coffee table right beside Genji’s cinnamon cocoa. Around him, stacks of exam papers were waiting for his attention to grade as well, with Bastion half-disassembled and waiting for upgrades in Zenyatta’s room. As Genji’s eyes roamed the living room, he saw Mondatta quietly reading a book in the armchair, wholly sunk in concentration.

Occasionally they did speak albeit for short periods whenever one of them found a student struggling in their arguments in a home assignment or making a mistake in an entire page long elaboration of an algorithm. Perhaps it came with the growing years of experience but Genji had already gotten used to reading students’ written explanations at times for certain approaches in formulas, even though they were only supposed to type their counting. At times it made sense to read the reminders his students left in the coding for themselves as if to connect with them and see their reason behind the approaches. When it came to Zenyatta’s experience, reading lengthy essays about literature often became a challenge to finish in one go, he held breaks more often and occasionally returned to certain students’ assignments multiple times. Settling into this routine was a cakewalk after several years of teaching.

However, if Genji hadn’t known any better, he would have thought that Mondatta was keeping his eyes on him. He’d certainly felt the man’s gaze on him while working on Bastion’s improvements or soon-to-be tested AI programming.

Eventually Genji decided to fetch some food for himself even if it was eleven pm and he was not supposed to eat after six… that, if he intended to keep his otherworldly good looks.

He took a bowl from the cabinet and opened the right cardboard box to pour a deliberate amount of chocolate covered Star Wars cereal balls into the bowl. After he fetched the lactose free milk from the fridge and finished preparing his late-night snack, Genji returned to sit beside Zenyatta and glance at the other’s proceeding work.

As his friend’s quizzical yet content gaze rose to spot the bowl of cereal, Zenyatta looked up into Genji’s eyes with only a hint of disapproval.

“Genji,” his voice did not deter the enthusiasm of a robotics engineer professor already having a nice and big spoonful of chocolate balls in his mouth. “Cereal is for breakfast, why do you eat it at eleven pm?”

“Don’t know, man, why do you keep losing your pens?”

They both heard Mondatta close his book and with a discontented sigh, place it on his knees.

The literary scholar shrugged, “it’s not the same. The cereal industry lives on your nightly consumption of sugary wheat balls.”

“So does the pen industry live on your stereotypical forgetfulness?”

“No, it’s not stereotypical, in fact I have too many pens in my office and only a few here at home so there is a difference.”

“No, in your opinion I don’t eat my cereal when I’m supposed to, well in my opinion you’re not using your pens to their right purpose either. Same thing.”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“I just misplace my pens, they are around here,  _ somewhere _ !”

“And I’m eating my cereal  _ sometime _ during the day! As Jesse would say, it’s high noon somewhere in the world, well, there is morning somewhere in the world!”

Zenyatta sighed, in the way one would forgive a child for their purposefully deviant behavior, “do as you wish, perhaps I’m simply tired.”

On the other side of the room, Mondatta’s eyes had been fixated on Genji’s posture and physique for a few moments. How had it slipped his notice before?

Just starting with the careful, secret analysis of Genji’s biceps and sinewy yet strong forearms and the well-defined lines around his shoulders, wary yet contemplative thoughts swirled in the older Tekhartha’s mind. From the time he’d spent around the man, Mondatta knew that Genji had practised martial arts for more than twenty-five years yet he’d never actually seen him utilize any of the reflexes or techniques. Of course, one half of the Buddhist brother was thankful for that, yet curiosity piqued in between his thoughts; just what would Genji be capable of when taunted?

Quickly he rephrased the question so the challenging tone would be lost since by principle, competitiveness had no place in Mondatta’s conscious.

The man sitting next to his brother was a trained martial artist, yet even after spending a week constantly around Genji, Mondatta had only noticed gentleness and benevolence in the young researcher’s aura. Genji was most tender and attentive when it came to Zenyatta, that Mondatta knew from the very beginning… from the ways the robotics engineer moved around his brother, from the way his tone carried nothing less but familiarity and fondness when spoken to Zenyatta.

And yet, the thought didn’t leave Mondatta’s mind to rest and enjoy the wonderful evening. His brother’s friend, this bright and loveable young man was currently handing Zenyatta the cup of tea from the coffee table so his brother wouldn’t need to stand… and it was the same Genji, who had been trained from early childhood for numerous uses of violence to deflect, decapitate or neutralize other human beings. Genji Shimada, disowned successor of the Shimada Corp, Mondatta’s mind recalled. A man stripped of influence and power, yet they couldn’t take his spirit.

The Buddhist brother’s eyes darkened in deeper contemplation as thoughts and images crossed his mind, all the indications his intuition was trying to wrap his head around. Genji and his constant awareness of Zenyatta’s whereabouts and activities was a phenomenon Mondatta had observed for days by now and only seemed to fathom the true depth just now.

This young man felt his brother’s aura. Zenyatta’s calming, soothing presence was a tranquilizing balm to Genji’s soul, Mondatta figured after he’d crossed the living room and continued his mindful observation of the two’s interaction. He recalled Genji preparing dinner for them after their trip to the hospital and waiting for them with hot ginger tea at the ready. He’d prepared breakfast multiple days in a row and without being asked, helped with the groceries so Zenyatta didn’t need to go to the shop at all but spend all remaining time with Mondatta instead. Genji also vacuumed and helped Zenyatta fold the clean laundry while Mondatta meditated. The older Tekhartha lost count how many times Genji must have already repaired his younger brother’s phone in the span of these few weeks…

The man also carried a certain laidback, easy air around him. Something that the older Tekhartha noticed to find and settle within Genji once he was reunited with Zenyatta. He cared, prodded and examined Zenyatta as much as one would aim to please and make a loved one’s life easier by small acts of kindness and attention.

Oh, the thought occurring in Mondatta’s mind pulled an amused, diminutive smile on his lips. Of course, how did he miss all the signs?

Right there on the couch, just a few meters away from him, right beside and almost coddling his brother, Mondatta found himself in the company of a dragon. It all made sense now.

A half-tame, momentarily peaceful dragon, enjoying his sanctuary – his mind added, since Genji already considered Zenyatta’s flat an extension of his home. He knew the place upside-down, inside-out and acted like he was in his natural habitat, coming home from training, work, carrying groceries and using the close proximity of Zenyatta as an anchor to his mind.

This was his sanctuary, a cave hidden on the bottom of the ocean with no intrusion from uninvited elements. Genji returned here from time to time and tended to his treasure in his own ways; and now Mondatta saw the possessiveness and unyielding spirit in the man’s soul, clear and bright. Freedom and unyielding will were the very essences of Genji’s soul.

So here they were now, Genji complaining about a student’s ineptness at designing manipulation and locomotion whereas it was supposed to be already clear for the pupil. With the man’s words both carrying disappointment and the slightest hint of scolding, Mondatta inwardly noted that upon taking the exam paper from Genji’s hand, Zenyatta understood the problematic test result and disapprovingly shook his head. He agreed with Genji’s opinion and his suggestion to ask the student to visit his teacher for a consultation.

The Japanese man stretched his arms and rolled his shoulders like a lazy feline, eyes still fixed on Zenyatta’s expressions even though Mondatta saw the budding fondness in the hazelnut gaze, like warm candlelight. It was almost tedious, silly to see a man of such power and genius eat his favorite chocolate-covered cereal in the middle of the night and discuss such mundane topics like Zenyatta misplacing his pens. Not to mention the time when he imitated wiping invisible tears from beneath his eyelashes with his favourite plastic engineering ruler and whispered, “my most trusted companion,  _ Dragonblade _ ...”, only to earn a well-deserved, weak slap on his head by Zenyatta.

At the same time, it made perfect sense, Mondatta supposed as he tilted his head in playful curiosity and re-considered his thoughts from earlier. Indeed, this was the only place for Genji to shed the scales and sheathe the claws he’d otherwise wield outside the cave. Here he was truly safe and had all the time in the world to coddle his treasure.

All of a sudden, yet arriving to him as a pleasant surprise, Mondatta saw the picture with clarity. Oh, his brother and his silly doubts…

Of course. The dragon and his treasure, his keeper.

No, that wasn’t right, Mondatta quietly hummed to himself as he made his way back to the armchair on the other side of the living room. During the few moments of finding the same comfortable sitting position in the cushioned furniture, the Nepalese man let his intuition guide his thoughts and provide a better image, a better explanation.

Dragons were not kept, they would not bend to anyone’s will. Such powerful, unbreakable spirits with unmatched freedom and will… not to mention the peerless talent and determination at guarding their secrets. The immaculate, unwavering control of their actions was however in stark contrast with their failure to oversee their own desires.

_ Not his keeper, yet still his most cherished treasure. You’ve become the dragon’s guide. _

Mondatta had witnessed countless instances of Genji’s halfway there attempts to touch Zenyatta and withdrawing in the last moments. As if he’d remind himself to refrain from such actions, the dragon recoiled as if in waiting, patiently dormant.

He couldn’t help but murmur as much to himself as to his quite oblivious brother across the room, preoccupied with watching Genji’s ministrations around the stacks of paper while the man began re-organizing them into the folders. It seemed the two scholars were done grading and assessing their students’ performances for the night.

As Genji spaced out for a moment then glanced up at Zenyatta with sparkling mischief in his eyes, the younger Tekhartha instinctively rolled his eyes and forewent Genji’s yet unspoken idea, “no.”

The robotics teacher winked and nudged him in the shoulder, “come on, I know what I’m doing.”

“Yes, exactly because of that. Think of the children, Genji, it’d be highly dangerous.”

“For them perhaps, but not for me. Come on Zenyatta it’d be just like being on heelys with a boost!”

“I beg to differ. We are talking about ice skating after all, and an example you’d set as an academic researcher.”

“It is the same me ice skating, heelys, snowboarding… there is no difference, Zenyatta.”

“I believe installing rockets on your skates or heelys might not be the sharpest idea, my friend.”

“Oh, but it is. I counted the aerodynamics and energy consumption already.”

“Overconfidence is a flimsy shield. ” And with that, Zenyatta considered their discussion over since he stood and packed his own folders of essays and exam papers to the coffee table.

Upon glancing at Genji’s frown and miniature pout, Mondatta pursed his lips in order to repress an amused smile and remind himself about the high academic status of the robotics engineer. After all Genji was a renowned researcher who just wanted to have fun on his own terms but apparently if Zenyatta disagreed with his ways, all the thought and consideration he was giving to those ideas were for naught.

Even so, from the kindling spark still residing in the Japanese man’s eyes, Mondatta knew the conversation was far from over yet.

“ _ Oh, brother, you’ve got yourself a dragon alright,”  _ he mused inwardly.

As an idea gradually formed in his mind, Mondatta picked his book one more time and checked the clock on the wall. With another glance at the PlayStation, he confirmed the upcoming operation with an affirmative nod to himself. Zenyatta was already in the process of retiring for the night, going on with his usual routine while Genji set to collect his own massive stacks of papers as well, along with his laptop. 

. . .

An hour later, when Genji was already comfortably settled on the makeshift bed made of the foldout couch, his figure covered in a blanket and ready to sleep as well, Mondatta glanced at his brother’s closed door and allowed himself a smile. The plan was simple and from Zenyatta’s lengthy tales from the times when their friendship was still budding yet quite strong already, Mondatta knew the outcome of his plan wouldn’t be foreign or repulsive to either of them. 

He just wanted them to be alone, together, and perhaps have an opportunity for an uninterrupted discussion. He’d make sure neither of their phones or tablets would ping during that time.

Genji was contentedly lounging on the couch with his phone still in his hand and playing some game; he was so engulfed in it that he didn’t even notice Mondatta standing up and turning the PlayStation on to feed it the right disk. The young man finally raised his gaze up at the other when Mondatta was already seated beside him, comfortably taking a lotus position. He could sense Genji’s perplexity and his calculating eyes sizing him up, trying to figure out Mondatta’s initiative and to confuse him even further, the lay brother glanced down at the blanketed figure. As their eyes met and Genji raised a curious eyebrow, Mondatta simply smiled and shifted a bit further away from the man as a gesture to give him more space.

Finally, Genji gave voice to his curiosity, “it’s midnight, you’re gonna play now?”

“I didn’t wish to bother you with it when you were working.”

Consideration mixed with perplexity crossed the young researcher’s expression, “you could have just asked, it would have been fine. Sometimes Zenyatta is reading while I’m building circuits around him or say my countings out loud and… well, it would have been fine.”

“Thank you, Genji. May I play this game for a while?”

“Of course, sure… which one…?” as he spoke, Genji turned his head and Mondatta bit the inside of his mouth not to start laughing on the spot, witnessing the brain-freeze on Genji’s face, thousands of thoughts still reeling in his eyes with disbelief and exhaustion mingling. “Little Big Planet three.”

Mondatta cleared his throat to stifle the trembling in his chest, the urge to laugh still great and the view of Genji’s almost resigned, disappointed yet acceptant expression still remaining entirely amusing to him. This was the right game to wreck Genji’s logical, structured thinking; especially if it was played by a soon-to-be Buddhist monk. Mondatta knew just how to play that game to make Genji uncomfortable in his very own skin, simply by not following the game’s so obvious suggestions to proceed or intentionally not using common sense and logic. 

He continued the adventure where Zenyatta left off, apparently in a frost-covered environment. Genji bit into his lower lip after watching two minutes of Mondatta’s playstyle, began irritatedly sighing after five minutes and finally, turned completely away after another couple of minutes.

“This is not how you play that game,” he murmured beside Mondatta and the other man turned his head to look down at him.

“I suppose I’m still proceeding in it, even if it might take longer.”

“But… ah, it’s not right. Why do you avoid the obvious paths?”

“Exactly because they are so obvious. It takes more thinking but I get to the end nonetheless.”

“Why are you putting philosophy even in Little Big Planet?”

“Is there something on your mind, Genji?”

For a few moments the younger man was quiet, as if he had been given an equation to solve. 

“No, nothing in particular.”

“That’s hardly surprising.”

Genji sat up so quickly that all Mondatta could do was pause the game and stare in confusion while the Japanese man raised a warning finger, his sharp and hardened gaze boring into Mondatta’s, “don’t think you can talk to me like Zenyatta does, you are not him.” The man’s voice held no place for counter-argument. “He can mock or tease me like that, but you can’t. Just because I’m not elbow-deep in literature and philosophy does not mean I don’t know what or how you two think.”

“My apologies, I didn’t mean any offence.”

Involuntarily yet with the grace of a noble, Genji tilted his jawline a bit upward while his gaze remained solid and stern, “I know, that’s why I told you. I respect you all the same, but you’re not Zenyatta. Ah, perhaps I’m tired as well.”

_ Oh. _ Mondatta averted his eyes from the man’s gaze to process the warning and the depth behind it while Genji slipped off the couch and stood, his posture suddenly heavy with the thoughts burdening his mind. The older man’s eyes followed his movements as the engineer bent to collect his blanket and pillow.

“Alright… I guess I can’t sleep in your room, so I’ll go and join Zenyatta. Good night, Mondatta, I’ll make breakfast in the morning as usual. Have fun playing!”

The almost casual manner of Genji’s exclamation froze Mondatta on the spot as his mind backtracked to his own plan and how Genji turned the tables in a moment’s notice. Perhaps he knew? When did he figure? How?

Did Mondatta truly underestimate the wits of his brother’s dragon?

. . .

His irritation evaporated in the instant Genji closed Zenyatta’s bedroom door behind himself and took inventory of his environment: Zenyatta was quietly sleeping in his queen-sized bed, facing the wall with hundreds of books surrounding his little home-office-turned-bedroom everywhere. He remembered helping Zenyatta haul the bed in here from the other room.

Books were overflowing the shelves and the floor just like in the living room, and an appreciative, calm smirk appeared on Genji’s lips at the sight of Bastion still valiantly guarding a top-shelf. Here, with the ardent yet familiar aroma of old books surrounding him, Genji carefully, softly walked to the bed and gently placed his own pillow beside the other’s. His heart swelled with warm fondness, something inherently familiar spreading in his veins like ivy aflame as his mind paused for several moments in toe for his eyes to take in the view of a man sleeping like the most innocent creature ever in existence. 

He only noticed his relieved sigh when the depth of his chest vibrated in liberation as the air flowed through. By instinct his hands moved and as gently and carefully as one Genji Shimada could, the man cleared some space for himself beside his friend and lay down beside him. 

Just like the old times, his mind mused, back in the days, six-seven years ago. Conferences and field trips with too much alcohol and little inhibition left in him, Genji often found Zenyatta’s bed warmer and cozier to sleep in than this own. Just like now, it didn’t matter back then either if his friend was already asleep or not: Zenyatta’d always been tolerant and accepting.

Oh yes… as more memories and the sweet sense of nostalgia found him, the man quietly hummed in contentment as he arranged his pillow and flopped down halfway onto it with his upper body. Genji had two kryptonites in his life; shower thoughts and alcohol. 

And yet he couldn’t help but turn his gaze back at Zenyatta’s oblivious, sleeping form. 

For a few moments while his mind and soul quieted and stilled, Genji heard nothing else but the clock’s ticking on the wall and his friend’s blissful, soft breathing. 

How did he deserve the fondness of this man? All those directionless, misspent years went by and he was too short-sighted and vain to see the beacon that would guide him to love and harmony. If he’d take the hand, if he’d stay…

If Zenyatta would accept him? Him, the unruly, still materialistic in many ways, wild and half-tamed dragon Genji still was?

Ah, who was he kidding.

With Zenyatta softly breathing in his sleep closer than an arm’s reach, the Japanese man released another, bone rattling sigh of relief and fulfillment. Here, in the soothing ocean of Zenyatta’s scent enveloping his entire being, Genji’s mind quickly sank into the sweet and tranquilizing sensations. Here, right underneath his fingers, in the air he breathed and the sight his eyes couldn’t have enough of, laid the safest, most profound haven in his entire life. For the moment, he didn’t need anything else.

_ “Hanzo is right”,  _ Genji remembered thinking.  _ “I’m such a coward. _ ”

He needed to do something about that.

 

. . .

Few hours later:

For an indefinite amount of time, the Nepalese man thought himself to be dreaming. One of the dreams when his mind would conjure the most pleasing, heartwarming images to the point of Zenyatta assuming himself to be delirious. Drunk on his sleepy imagination, his fantasy wrenched and warmed his heart to the brim, he’d only noticed himself to be awake upon realizing that he blinked and the image didn’t dissolve in front of him. He couldn’t resist the shaky, unsure sigh escaping his lips as if being illuminated in an enchantment which wouldn’t perish even upon waking.

At some point… Zenyatta’s lips curled into a contented smile with his eyes barely open yet the delirious,  _ elated, overjoyed, loving  _ thrumming of his heart hadn’t slowed, it only seemed to spread into every single particle of him. His breath trembled from the sight, fingers curling into his palm as his throat tightened from so many emotions welling up at once.

With his sight temporarily blurred, Zenyatta raised his hand to wipe at his eyes and focus his cherishing gaze on the sleeping form right beside him. It couldn’t be true, yet here he was…

_ Genji _ , his heart yearned, pleaded for him to reach out.  _ Dearest Genji. _

Then, he heard it. The sound he originally woke up for.

In front of him, halfway across the pillow on his stomach, Genji was softly snoring into the puffy fabric, his strong arms wrapped around the pillow as if to hold it underneath himself from escaping. The quiet yet quite notorious noise from the back of his throat was nothing new to Zenyatta; he’d heard that many times before. With an involuntary, affectionate smile Zenyatta recalled how many times he’d also helped Genji stop the snoring without waking him or disturbing his sleep in the slightest. 

While admiring the man lying right beside him, Zenyatta realised that he wouldn’t get much sleep with Genji making the rhythmic yet so very distinctive sound. It couldn’t be helped.

For a few moments, he hesitated. His hand stopped mid-motion and returned to the safe warmth of his bosom, fingers curling into his palm once more. 

Seven years ago, for the first time, he had found himself in the same situation except it was on a field trip with the engineers. Genji was in his first year of Master’s programme and as it usually went, he had gotten exceedingly drunk during the first night of the field trip. Zenyatta recalled himself regretting ever tagging along but when somehow during the night Genji ended up in his bed, snuggling up to his middle and mumbling something in Japanese (which Zenyatta hadn’t understood fluently just yet), he’d instantly accepted whatever might come next on that trip. Genji was hugging him close with his alcohol-driven, overheated figure quickly making the covers too warm for both of them to wear and yet Zenyatta couldn’t help but affectionately accept the man into his arms with a fond smile.

Then, Zenyatta remembered Genji falling asleep within the span of a minute, already softly snoring into his chest like a content child ignoring the rest of the entire world for the sake of the undisturbed, sweetest sleep he’d ever get.

When the younger version of himself in the memory lifted his free hand to gently place his palm flat on Genji’s head, thumb ever-so gently caressing the man’s forehead with a feather-like touch, Zenyatta also recalled how quickly and smoothly Genji’s snoring ceased. He had calmed in an instant and seemed to sink deeper into his sleep, limbs and entire body going even more limp and numb than before. His breathing had evened, slowed and quieted under Zenyatta’s careful yet steady ministrations like a man finding the unending embrace of absolute peace. All Zenyatta had done was softly, slowly caressing Genji’s forehead with his thumb, palm lying warm and flat in his hair. 

It wasn’t all too different from now, the Nepalese man decided with another fond curl of his lips, his hand already resting on Genji’s head just above his forehead so his thumb would reach down and copy the exact same moves from seven years ago… another instance seven years ago… six years ago, same place, not so drunk Genji… and all those dozens of times during which Zenyatta had offered Genji more compassion and love than anyone else ever in his life.

 

How many loved your moments of glad grace,   
And loved your beauty with love false or true,   
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,   
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;   
  
And bending down beside the glowing bars,   
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled   
And paced upon the mountains overhead   
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars .

W.B. Yeats - When You’re Old

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are now. What do you think? I'd also like to wish happy holidays for everyone out there, take some time off to relax like the boys. :) Leave me a comment or kudos if you liked this chapter or feel free to pour your heart into a comment if I made you feel anything. :D


	16. Fools in Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Fools Fall In Love -Saurabh N. Turakhia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays to everyone! I'm very happy to see all the excitement about Book 2, my ever-so anxious heart was trembling like a leaf when I announced it to you. I'm very very happy and would like to thank everyone for your support and love for this story! It means so much to me I can't express. Please send your love also to Ruriska who tirelessly betad this story for me with brilliant solutions and I can only hope she will tag along for Book 2 as well. Ruriska, I cannot thank you enough!

Love is a different world  
For each different heart,  
But only fools possess the art,  
To love truly their counterpart!

 

 

One could say with quite high accuracy, that Genji booked it.

  
He woke up with Zenyatta’s hand resting in front of him and from its position he knew that at some point the man had petted him during the night or at least touched him and the thought unabashedly, shamelessly terrified Genji. For a few moments his mind wasn’t capable of anything else, he just stared in awe and shock at the view in front of him. His heart grew weak yet hammered so anxiously like a suffocating, caged little sparrow.

  
Zenyatta was still fast asleep when he got up and as quickly as possible, left the room and closed the door with the softest click of the handle he could manage. His eyes scanned the living room for any sign of an awake Mondatta and when he heard no noises from either the kitchen or the bathroom, Genji quickly strode to the fridge and took inventory of the ingredients inside.

  
His mind was reeling lividly inside his head, heartbeat still racing like his thoughts. As if his ass was on fire, Genji made breakfast for the two other men in record speed so he could at least attempt to organize all his findings in his head.

  
His body was oversensitive and more often than it was normal, Genji shuddered with an unknown, electrifying warmth when he thought of Zenyatta caressing him and being so close while he slept. For Genji, feeling the mild and pleasant fluttering of his chest was nothing but new, foreign and alarming feeling. As soon as he was done making the scrambled eggs with mushrooms, chopped kale, and tomatoes (with just a little teriyaki this time) Genji placed two plates on the counter with silverware.

  
Dressing and packing his most essential things was a blur; he barely remembered grabbing pen and paper to leave a note for the other two.

  
“I’ll be back in the evening, text me if you need something from the shop - Genji”

  
Trotting down the stairs, he was already typing a text to McCree, followed by another to Angela Ziegler.

  
7.12. To Jesse: “lunch today at street food bar?”

  
7.13 To Angela: “skype at 10 ur time? Need ur advice. Urgent. Personal.”

  
. . .

  
The trembling wouldn’t stop for a few days after. They both knew, if Zenyatta spaced out all of a sudden or lost his track of thoughts, his mind would be far away, on another continent. The airport’s sterile yet overused air always reminded him of the sorrow and saudade he felt every time someone left.

  
Per his request, Genji stayed at the main gates and would wait for Zenyatta to come back. Alone.

  
His breathing shook, ribs quickly clenching around his failing lungs as the blurry view of his brother hurt more than Zenyatta had prepared himself for. His freezing cold, numb fingers tugged and squeezed at Mondatta’s coat, the man still fondly, adoringly smiling at his little brother who looked so forlorn and heartbroken as if they’d never see one another again. He pulled Zenyatta in for another ‘last’ embrace, his arms enveloping the other in the reassurance that this was only a temporary goodbye. The younger Tekhartha pursed his trembling lips and took a shaky inhale, his own hold impossibly tight around Mondatta as he gave all he had into it.

  
“See you in the summer, Zenyatta. Sooner than you’d think,” soothingly murmuring, Mondatta knew he’d terribly miss his brother as well… but as older siblings always had to since the beginning of time, he needed to be stronger in situations like these. He was the anchor and the figure of safe haven Zenyatta could always turn to, even if their opinions would vary at times.

“Mondatta, take care,” the other sobbed, arms still straining with the vehemence of longing, “give my kisses to Mom and everyone. I miss them. I miss them so much.”

  
“Oh,” now Mondatta couldn’t help the swelling moisture in his eyes either; once more he hugged Zenyatta and gave a kiss on his temple. “Oh, you dear. Of course. We miss you too. You’ll be home in no time.”

  
He knew it would be difficult, it would be like clenching at the dagger right in their hearts… but it would be Zenyatta who’d be left behind in a foreign world.

  
“Mondatta, please don’t leave, I can’t do this--” he cried, tears melting into the other’s coat.

  
“You can, I know you can. Listen to me…”

  
“I can’t do this alone, it’s… it’s too much, I-- please don’t leave me alone--”

  
Mondatta glanced up at the gateway and froze on his spot as he saw an utterly petrified, thunderstruck Genji stare at them, his eyes glaring with nothing less but bewilderment and fright that froze him into his place. The older sibling tightened his hold around Zenyatta once more before he forcefully pushed him away to look into his reddened, sorrowful eyes.

  
“Zenyatta, listen to me, let me tell you something. We don’t have much time left.” As he hardened his heart for the next moments, Mondatta took a deep breath while his brother nodded in understanding. “I will be completely honest with you. You are my brother, and you’ll always be. I lived most of my life watching over you and the others… but you of all, you never truly needed much guidance from me, you’ve always wished to walk your own path.”

  
“No, no,” Zenyatta’s fingers clenched into a fist in Mondatta’s coat, “don’t talk like that, Mondatta. You’re not…”

  
“Please, listen. It is only your sorrow and fear of losing me, which is hurting you, the same pain which hurts me now as well. But when you walk away from here, you’ll see that you’ll never be alone again. You are not alone here, Zenyatta. You need not fear that.”

  
“I don’t know how to carry this alone, I can’t…”

  
“You needn’t do that either,” his thumb gently swiped the tears from Zenyatta’s cheek. “When you walk away from here and sit in the car, and Genji will drive you home, breathe deeply and calm your heart. When you’ve done that, look around and see with your mind open. You’re not alone here, you haven’t been for a long time.”

  
“How can you tell me this right now, why do you expect me to calm so soon? I’m hurting, you’re leaving and it hurts,” resignation and unrestrained pain shone in the chestnut brown eyes, similar to the ones Mondatta felt, yet the honest admittance did help clearing the younger brother’s mind.

  
“Zenyatta… please, listen. Remember what I said, when the right time comes.”

  
“I will.”

  
“And last…” Mondatta smiled once more, adoration and newfound glee glistening in his oaken eyes, “even if he might not be like you and me, he is just as much of a fool as you are.”

  
Zenyatta’s eyes widened in perplexity, for a moment he even forgot his deep sorrow.

  
“What do you mean…?”

  
“A-ah,” the soon-to-be monk straightened his shoulders and playfully wagged his index finger. “That’s all I will say on this matter. The rest is for you to find out.”

  
. . .

  
With a sharp click, the car’s door shut behind him and involuntarily his arms wound around his freezing form. The cold seeped through the vehicle’s bottom, the glass and every surface and by the time Genji sat in the driver’s seat and started the engine, Zenyatta blew a few clouds of vapor in the air in front of him.

  
For a moment, neither of them moved. The only sound surrounding them was the constant murmur of the car’s engine yet the air seemed to press heavily onto their figures. As the seconds crawled on, Zenyatta felt the suffocating tightness convulse his chest once again. With a painful gulp he took another trembling breath. Mondatta was gone, and his mind and heart couldn’t turn this new, yet so achingly familiar feeling into a positive or calming note. Mondatta was gone, and they wouldn’t meet for a long time now… as if he’d disappeared from the surface of Earth.

  
With a weak sob Zenyatta raised his hand, wrapped in a knit woollen glove made by his mother, and wiped at his eyes. They were all too far, absent, unreachable for him to touch.

  
Genji had still yet to move, seemingly frozen into his place as well, stunned by the loss of Mondatta and yet surrounded by a certain insecurity that Zenyatta couldn’t place.

  
The trembling in his chest overcame his inhibitions and soon Zenyatta was wiping his eyes and nose again, eyes stuck somewhere mid-air while the overwhelming hurt of loss engulfed his entire being. He couldn’t move, couldn’t say a word when Genji reached over, undid their seatbelts and pulled him into a tight embrace, forehead instinctively pressing into Zenyatta’s neck.

  
For an indefinite amount of time, for neither of them cared, they didn’t move. In silent compassion, they shared the pain, loss and the reassurance steadily seeping back into their hearts drop by drop. With a sigh that carried a thousand thoughts remaining unsaid, Zenyatta ran his hand up and down Genji’s back who tightened his hold around his friend’s middle and finally spoke. His voice remained low, almost above a whisper for no one from the outside world to hear.

  
“It’s alright. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

  
While his eyes grew heavy and his heart swelled with newfound confidence, the familiar heavenly warmth dripped into Zenyatta’s being, ivy aflame spreading in every limb, every little part of him, just like every time Genji reassured him of his presence. Zenyatta let himself be enveloped into the other’s hold and sink deeper in the calming sensation that was Genji’s promise of companionship, a unique and treasured thing, a feeling that only Genji was able to provide. With those three sentences, he’d erased all doubt, all fears and questions from Zenyatta’s conscious, the words dancing in jubilation and echoing for long hours afterwards.

  
He only noticed Genji’s thumb steadily swiping over his palm and still holding onto his hand when they left the outskirts of Helsinki and became shrouded in the frostcovered Finnish highway, swallowed and illuminated in the warm lights.

 

 

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in  
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere  
i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done  
by only me is your doing,my darling)

 

E.E. Cummings - i carry your heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it is a very short chapter, but this is the end of Book One. I'm working on Book Two right now and have it written around halfway. :) Thank you for all who have commented or left kudos for me, this story is the biggest I have ever written and it's far from done! Stay tuned for Book Two, I cannot promise an exact date for the first chapter (I'm writing my Masters' thesis in the meantime) so for further updates you can check my tumblr every once in a while. The soonest date might be in a month or two, that's for sure, I hope you will still remember this story then Q.Q 
> 
> Thank you for everyone who read, left kudos and commented, thank you so much for reading this. I can't tell how much this story means to me. If you have any questions, suggestions or wishes, please don't hesitate to write!


	17. Tides Turning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh how the tides have turned?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 1. of Book 2. (unbetad but I couldn't wait anymore to publish aaaa forgive me)

January was the coldest of months in Finland. The frost seeped in any and all buildings through the walls, seized nature in a petrifying grip and covered the town in growing layers of snow. Even so, life did not flee from the campus, the constantly humming organ of academia relentlessly continued to function and grind intellect as it would during any other time of the year. In January however, few minutes of walking had the eyelashes freezing together, making such simple acts like blinking an interesting experience for anyone not quite used to the harsh temperatures. The cold envelopes all that remains unmoving or exposed without shelter: even the unruly breath of hair which escapes from the cover of the warmest caps will soon be wrapped in diminutive chains of frozen crystals. So many exchange students snap photos of the phenomenon yet the locals are unphased and naturally grown accustomed to it already.  

These times, wearing a ski mask under the thick isolation-endorsed caps is a must with the extra wrapping of scarves. With the trick being the number of layers, Genji preferred the llama wool scarf Zenyatta’s mother had knitted for him. Her choices for the colors, light green with sparkly grey yarn and its chunky texture warmed his heart every time he picked that awesome scarf to wear, her caring and thoughtfulness from across another continent keeping his neck and face warm in the harshest time of the year. It was a shame he couldn’t wear it throughout the year. 

With the few coldest weeks of the year slowly crawling by and the majority of the population preferring to remain inside the warm sanctuary of buildings, Genji did sometimes worry for his dearest, bald friend’s head in the minus thirty celsius degrees. Silently and without letting him know, he kept checking if Zenyatta would wear two caps on top of the ski mask or would tie his scarf tightly enough to keep the cold at bay. At times when Zenyatta did notice the concern in the engineer’s eyes, he’d find it amusing and endearing while trying to gently ease his friend’s worries with the gentle reminder, “I’m from rural Nepal, Genji”.

If he was in a better mood, he would also add to entertain Genji’s exhausted mind, “you could say that the cold never bothered me anyway.”

It remained unsaid between them but before Genji realized it truly happening, he’d been living in Zenyatta’s flat for more than a month and grew to become one with the furniture. It came to him around the end of January, walking across the completely frozen lake (and avoiding the murderous bridge as far as he could) towards the department of humanities. The thought hit him while his eyes squinted in order to refuse the urge to blink with his frozen eyelashes, his hands carefully pocketed with two gloves providing isolation for his fingers. 

Even with the new semester starting, he had no intention of moving back to his home yet, at least not until the end of these coldest, frostcovered weeks. His teeth chattered from the lack of warmth and he quickened his steps until starting into an easy jog. Soon enough he reached the building with Zenyatta’s office and gave in to the shudder of relief when he entered. Warm air enveloped him instantly and the engineer instantly headed for the cafeteria. 

“The usual,” he smiled at the cashier, still wrapped in the awesomest green ninja scarf one ever possessed with his eyes shining bright with glee. “Cinnamon chai latte with croissant, and a coffee, please.”

Every Monday, Tuesday and Thursday he’d made the trip across the lake one way or another and brought the same refreshers to his dearest friend. With the years going by, Genji had become a usual and welcome sight in the cafeteria at the department of humanities. Without his heelies, he chose to go up to the third floor by the elevator to avoid any chance of slipping with his thickest winter boots on the tiles. As he entered the hall of offices and heard Lena’s longing sigh, “cinnamon chaaai!” he’d flashed a playful wink at her with a confident smile as he passed by. 

“Indeed!”

The chatter in the office halls became a constant murmur in his ears and ceased completely when he entered Zenyatta’s small office, separated from the rest of the hall with glass walls and a sliding door. His friend clearly awaited his arrival as there was a previously cleared spot on Zenyatta’s table for the tray of warm drinks. 

“Ah, Genji! Thank you for the tea.” The Nepalese man moved in an instant to take the tray off Genji’s hands so he could shred his coat, the caps, ski mask and the scarf Zenyatta’s mother knit specially for Genji. Seeing it on the engineer always brought an appreciative, fond smile on the literary scholar’s lips.

When he was done taking the upper layers of his winter arsenal off, but keeping one pair of simple gloves on, Genji opened his arms in a questioning gesture with the slightest gleeful jolt in his feet, “no, don’t mention it! So, have you decided anything?”

With a casual, dismissive wave of his hand Zenyatta returned to his chair and let a huff of air escape his lips, gaze involuntarily drawn to the breathtaking sight of the lake across the windows. “Patience, Genji. These things take time.”

Now it was Genji’s turn to sit on the spare chair and huff, “come on, it’s not rocket science. Just robotics,” he winked and clicked his tongue as if he’d made the joke of the century while Zenyatta sighed and pressed his thumb at his temple in utter exhaustion. 

“Exactly that, it wouldn’t be a conference about literature or my field of study. I would need a substitute for four classes while I’d be gone for the meetings on a personal matter. Since I prefer to do this the official way, it takes longer to get all the approvals and…” Genji shook his head and ran his fingers up and down his trousers, a sign of him being uncertain. 

“You’re overcomplicating it. Even if it’s a personal matter, they should allow you to come along.”

Zenyatta’s wam gaze turned to him from the view across the window and Genji immediately felt his thoughts calm and slow with his breathing evening out. As their gazes locked and Zenyatta continued to look at him the way one would consider giving a treat to a well-behaved child, the engineer’s ears reddened from the intense attention he received. With a cough and the meaningful raise of his eyebrows, Genji clapped his hands together as he leaned forward on his elbows. 

“But you did notify them already, right?”

“Yes, that I did.”

“Good then!” The engineer gave a nod of acknowledgement as he plucked the gloves off his hands before reaching for his own cup on the tray. He did inwardly admit that Zenyatta looked like a content old man in that dirty grey woolen sweater, even if he couldn’t say it out loud.

As they continued to sip their drinks in comfortable quietness, Zenyatta’s occasional sighs echoing between them, Genji let the pleasant joy of being around his friend gradually warm his core and limbs. He’d be the happiest robotics engineer alive if Zenyatta would accompany him to the conference in May, they would go to Cambridge together. His imagination was already running wild with all the programs he planned to do while having Zenyatta by his side, how many other researchers he wished to introduce him, which local restaurants to try, which parks to take lazy afternoon strolls in… 

“Genji, don’t you have a class from twelve-fifteen?”

“Oh,  _ damn! _ ” The man quickly regained a foothold on reality and took a long sip from his coffee. “Yeah, I do. Hey, do you know what I gave for a group of undergrads to do as group project? Morrison will have my head but it’s so awesome,” he added with a sly smirk and let the low rumble of a laugh escape when he saw the same expectant playfulness in Zenyatta’s gaze. 

“You told them to make an exoskeleton or...?”

“No, much better. The Exoskeleton project is for that one master’s program team, they can handle it with the sport science department but this undergrad group... “Genji clicked his tongue and held the sign of excellence with his free hand, “they are making a real life BB-8 model with working AI. It’s the same five people for two courses this semester and they could nail both course projects with this. They are designing both the way it moves, they way it connects to smartphones, well, that’s not a big thing, but the AI! They are making a BB-8.”

He could tell Zenyatta was impressed by the way his eyebrows shot high up on his forehead and he leant back in his office chair with quiet and contemplative hums. “That does sound amazing.”

“It’s not a big thing to assemble a BB-8 that rolls around and can be remote-controlled, but one with AI? I told them to make it curious and playful, I can’t wait to see where they get by the end of the semester.”

“I’m sure they are motivated…!”

“Oh!” Genji laughed openly, eyes bright with enthusiasm though at once he remembered drinking his coffee too. “Oh, have no doubt about that, should’ve seen their faces. You know, I got the idea while last week I was making the upgrades for Bastion.”

_ Ah _ , Zenyatta joined him with an easy, relieved chuckle, “I see. I’m glad for how he is working out though.”

“I should have made him taller in the beginning… his uses are quite limited at the moment,” the engineer pulled an eyebrow and with the tilt of his head, cast an experimental, curious look at his friend. “Would you be up for model hunting on Friday?”

With his lips momentarily pursed, Zenyatta gently placed his own mug on the desk and reached for his calendar although it must have come to his mind quicker for he lifted an index finger and nodded instead. “Yes, if we go in the centre. At four I have a meeting with Mei in the library.”

Genji mirrored the acknowledging gesture and hummed with a content smile, “sure thing, we’ll be done by then.”

“Good. You could take the car, drop me off at the library then I’ll give you a call.” the Nepalese man smiled while his friend finished the warm coffee and mirrored the gesture with a nod. Soon however, Genji checked his wristwatch and stood to gather his things with Zenyatta’s gaze following his moves. “Thank you again, for the tea. It was lovely.”

“Don’t mention it. Ring me when your class is over, so I’ll stay in the building as long as I can. Let’s hope this cold won’t last too much longer.”

“I can pick you up from the parking lot…”

“No need, I can walk over here. No big deal.”

“As you wish, but be careful on the ice. You have an idea about dinner?”

Genji hummed and clicked his tongue while his thoughts looked for a desirable dish for the two of them; he ended up pausing entirely with his coat open, zip hanging mid-way in his fingers. 

“Chicken with teriyaki--”

Zenyatta’s quiet, pleased chuckle involuntarily made Genji’s head turn to look at his friend. 

“Okay. You can’t ruin that,” the literature teacher mused, his eyes reflecting warmth and joy. 

In response, the engineer’s eyes narrowed at the easy, teasing comment, “you’ll make the rice.”

The simple sentiment, that Genji liked the Tekhartha’s way of rice-cooking helped keeping Zenyatta’s spirits high and his insides warm for the rest of the day and whenever he would remember. Such simple things, meaning so much.

. . .

During the most winter-days, they’d be found in Zenyatta’s flat and enjoying the calm, content quietness around them. Since most of the day was spent indoors and like most other people they would only venture outside when it was absolutely necessary, Genji had returned to the simple yet rewarding activity of upgrading the knee-high robot he’d given to Zenyatta years ago. Bastion had overgone serious improvements which not only gave a fair amount of pride to his creator but kind and genuinely appreciative smiles from his actual owner as well. 

As an experiment from Genji’s part, Bastion could now recognize tea mugs and deliver them either from the kitchen to Zenyatta, or from him back to the kitchen counter. Genji had expressed his discontent at the small yet enthusiastic robot’s limitations due to its height, yet the machine didn’t seem deterred. After all, Genji spent weeks writing his AI programming and continued to work on his personality so Bastion would individually learn his way around the flat, memorize his location, recognize landmark objects and how his environment occasionally would change. He was fascinated by boxes of all kinds and attempted to fit objects in them.

Before, the robot relied on remote controls. Now when he raised his button like camera-eyes at Zenyatta, he saw a friend. The Nepalese man felt determination and happiness swell in his ribcage as one night Bastion turned his head at him and waved, beeping and booping cheerfully at Zenyatta. One late January evening, the machine was sat on the couch for the time being while Genji would re-sort the cables, wires and circuits in his left foot and despite missing half a leg, Bastion seemed content.

When Zenyatta tilted his head to the left in fondness, the robot mirrored the gesture.

“I will… I will try to be the best friend you deserve, Bastion. I promise.”

At the writing desk, Genji could barely hide his sentimental gratitude behind a quiet sigh when he looked at Zenyatta. Here, in the literary scholar’s care he knew Bastion would grow and learn more in a loving, supporting environment which would be more cosy and homelike than a laboratory’s meticulously arranged setting. Even though the robot’s AI was far from done and he’d already depleted (butchered) his savings by ordering specific parts from webshops, the engineer’s determination surged stronger once more. In the meantime, Zenyatta gently patted the machine’s head and added, “we will begin planning your language program soon too.”

“I’m sure you will be very good friends,” the Japanese man reflexively cracked his index finger above the keyboard, his voice reassuring yet gentle. “I ordered him high-quality batteries too, so he won’t need to recharge every day.”

“Please, let me chip in,” Zenyatta asked, for the dozenth time. “You’ve already spent a lot on him.”

“Thank you, but no need. It’s fine. He’d always been my favourite, that’s why I gave him to you,” Genji nodded towards the robot who beeped, earning a quick smile back from his creator. “Yeah, you’re the best. Just wait until your new motion sensors and audio sensors arrive! I have plans with you, friend.”

Genji was also set to correct his initial mistake and make the small robot friend taller so he wouldn’t have so much trouble raising a mug to the kitchen counter. Even though the sight was indeed adorable to both humans, Zenyatta soon expressed his worries that if Bastion would slip or fall, he might hurt himself. Hence, they needed to get new parts for Bastion and as usual, Genji’s first stop would be at the tank and helicopter model shop downtown. Until then, he’d taught Bastion to step on a short stool in order to comfortably reach the counter.

. . .

It had become a routine over the years, that when a certain robotics engineering teacher would drop by from time to time in the small model shop and buy specifically ordered parts, wires and chips, the employees would try to convince him to experiment with their new products and share his experience. After Mr. Shimada would bring them home for his tinkering, his feedback proved to be more than useful to determine a brand's’ true worth. Not to mention that after so many years going by, the employees knew that if Mr. Shimada would pay them a visit, it would take at least one hour until he’d exhaust all possible questions about specific products. 

It was also a well oiled routine that in the meantime, Zenyatta would browse the bookstore quite close to the model shop and as usual, end up buying handmade postcards or another bunch of pens he would  _ misplace _ somewhere in his flat or his office. 

How Genji ended up in the bookstore that one time remained a mystery to him as well, despite the fact that he did indeed get a text from Zenyatta to meet him there. He rarely visited such places since all books he required were in the library or he had them as e-books already on his personal drive. Until Zenyatta would finish his business in the downstairs area of the bookstore, Genji decided to lurk around the furnishing and cuisine blocks just in case he saw something interesting. 

It was during that time that he was just idly standing around and ran his gaze over the titles, astonishing Scandinavian furnishing books and smart DIY guides spread across the tables in front of him. His thoughts had wandered aimlessly, curling into one another like seams flow into a yarn, yet when he noticed the one outstanding title with the images, Genji’s mind halted in an instant.

His fingers nervously tightened their hold around the paper bag he held, his hazelnut gaze quickly, involuntarily glancing around. Zenyatta was still downstairs in the other section of the store so with a few big strides Genji walked to the other stand and pursed his lips in contemplation when his eyes returned to the book’s title. As his teeth sank into the inside of his lower lip, the hesitant and bracing inhale through his nose was a tell-tale sign of him close to fleeing the entire situation.

He wasn’t ready, his mind vehemently protested. Would he ever be ready? Would he carry this through?

Deeply buried in his ribcage yet seemingly so close to hammering itself out, Genji’s heart leaped into his throat. His free hand reached up to hide and wipe at his lips, his nose. The book taunted him like none other on the stack.

Could he do this? 

The seconds seemed to drag to a stuttering, torturous halt in the engineer’s mind and for several moments he could do nothing else than let the reeling, heavily constricting thoughts overcome his mind. Staring mid-air into the general view of neatly stacked books, Genji soon realized that he’d spaced out once again. 

Valentine’s Day was in two weeks, and he, a grown up mechanical engineering researcher spaced out in front of a homemade chocolate truffle recipe book. 

What comes after Valentine’s Day? White Day, and his lips mimicked his thoughts with silent murmuring. Presenting homemade chocolate to… 

He clenched his fists and steeled his swiftly beating heart. He could handle this. He was thirty-three after all, a man well-known for his excellent and unmatched self-control and level-headedness. It was only an occasion to show his… appreciation for Zenyatta’s friendship.

Genji couldn’t help the involuntary groan and wipe his face with his free hand. Who was he kidding? What was the point? 

Oh, he desperately wished to call Hanzo and hear his merciless, ego-butchering advice but then again, his mind quickly reminded him that he wasn’t ready. He had to handle other, more pressing issues first such as Zenyatta’s still fierce longing for Mondatta, and come up with several plans in case something would go wrong during the way. He had to be here for Zenyatta right now in the present and help him until his friend would calm and get used to their lives again, without his brother’s comfortable presence. 

Genji promised, after all, he swore to himself that he’d keep Zenyatta safe and unharmed from everything and anything, even from the man’s own mind. 

And for that, he needed to be a collected, confident man if he truly wished to go through--

“Hello, Genji!”

His colleague’s greeting struck Genji’s mind like a whiplash, a shudder ran up his spine and reflexively his entire upper body flexed up for a short moment. He knew that the person standing a few meters away was someone he couldn’t fool into thinking anything else than what state she’d found him. Startled by the fellow researcher, he cleared his throat and looked down at his hands again, only to have his eyes grow as wide as saucers from the shock.

When did he pick the recipe book into his hand? How did it get there?

“Hi, Satya!”

The sight in front of her was most amusing yet intriguing. Satya Vaswani’s curiosity led her to walk closer and acknowledge the very sight of Genji Shimada holding a chocolate truffle recipe book in his hands and refuse to meet her gaze from embarrassment. Like a child caught with his hands in the cookie jar, she mused inwardly.

Repressing an amused smile into a polite smirk, she started again. 

“It’s nice to see you, Genji, I’ve been meaning to talk to you anyway. Please accept my late congratulations for your success, I’m truly happy for you.”

The fact that she addressed their professional lives instead of the state Genji was found and the book he held let the man roll a heavy rock off his shoulders. 

“Thank you, Satya. I appreciate it,” he turned, still keeping the book among his fingers but at least he could muster some confidence back into his posture with his shoulders even and more relaxed. “I’ll look forward to your opinion about it of course, it’d be great if we could work on the development together.”

She nodded in agreement, her minimalistic yet elegant crystalline blue earrings slightly jostling with the movement. “I should provide a lengthy review then.”

For the moment, Genji could relax in their talk and notice the peculiarly embroidered red scarf Satya had wrapped around her duffle coat. The pattern looked familiar, and his longer than usual lasting look at the cloth drew Satya’s attention to it as well.

“I got this scarf from Mr. Reinhardt,” she said, luring Genji’s gaze on herself instead and was pleased to see him smile in response. “He knits and embroiders beautifully.”

“It’s indeed very nice, and I think I’ve seen that pattern somewhere before.”

“It is from his home region in Germany. He said it’s traditional, Ms. Amari and Angela have similar ones, also from him. You might have seen those.”

When their eyes met, Satya raised a curious eyebrow at him and glanced down at the book. 

“But I haven’t seen you with any sort of cookbook before, either.”

Caught with his hand in the cookie jar, Satya mused once more as color erupted on the engineer’s cheeks and he almost scoffed, averting his gaze defensively.

“Will you make chocolate, Genji? Which kind?” 

“I don’t know yet,” the man admitted, inwardly even to himself which was a groundbreaking surprise; as if he’d have drawn a hazy curtain aside, his thoughts seemed to clear on him. He was going to make chocolate, it was a decision and for some reason unknown to himself as well, telling this to Satya wasn’t as hard as he initially thought it to be. “It will be decades since I’ve made them the last time.”

“Worry not, they’re not challenging. If you used the chocolate even twenty years ago, it hadn’t changed as much. You can buy chocolate specifically made for baking in the supermarkets.”

Genji’s lips formed a wondering ‘o’ at the new information, his eyes set to examine the pictures on the book’s front cover, “I didn’t know that, Satya. Thank you.”

She tilted her head to the left in contemplation, a reflexive yet so graceful shift Genji’d never seen anyone do it like a move of artistic quality. Satya hummed, momentarily deep in thought and reached over to take the book from his hands which he’d naturally allowed; she first checked the price and flipped through a few pages.

“In fact, if you’d like to experiment first, dark and milk chocolate is the best for that. Don’t put anything in them for the first time, you can do that later… and you should get the good quality silicon forms from the shop called Confetti. You can buy all necessary equipment there, actually.”

“Wow, that’s really helpful!” Genji let the paper bag full of electronics slide to the floor as he fished for his phone, “could you please tell me the shop’s name again, I’ll write it down. Thank you, Satya!”

She continued flipping through the pages while telling him exactly where to find the shop itself. 

“Oh, and I’ll come along for the conference in Cambridge,” she casually added.

“Great, there’ll be more of us from here. More familiar faces. If all goes well, Zenyatta will come too.”

Her eyes jumped up to meet his gaze and Genji could tell she was surprised but happy to hear the news, “that’s wonderful, Genji! Cambridge is beautiful in the end of May, you’ll have plenty of sights to see. Make sure to take him to the Humanities departments, specially the libraries.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t! Not the libraries” He laughed teasingly, “what if he falls in love with them instead and decides to leave me for the books?”

Satya raised an eyebrow with a knowing smirk which both made Genji freeze on his spot after the realization of his words’ meanings, and had his cheeks flush in color once more. 

_ Instead? _

He bit into his lower lip, teeth sinking almost painfully into his flesh and avoided Satya’s gaze for a long, meaningful moment. 

“Fear not, and take him to the libraries,” the lady finally said, her voice light and trilling. Words stuck on the Japanese man’s throat, unable to utter a single vowel to deny anything. “And make the chocolate, Genji. I’m sure you can handle it as long as you keep the teriyaki bottle in a safe distance.”

He was about to quip back for the last bit of her comment when she let an amused chuckle escape, “I’m sorry, I’ll not tease you any longer. That book is kinda overpriced though,” her gaze turned serious once more and Genji took a deep breath to steady his suddenly unruly breathing as well. 

“Can I trust food blogs with this?”

She gave a dismissive, easy wave of her hand, “I’ll send you a good website. Most tend to over-mystify some things but this one is logical and easy to follow. I’m sure you will do well. Chocolate truffle making is fun, feel free to experiment once you get the hang of it!”

“Thank you so much, Satya,” the younger researcher noticed himself reflexively bending slightly from the middle, a gesture of gratitude deeply ingrained within and was pleased to see Satya reply in the required fashion. He didn’t expect her to, yet she did nonetheless. “I am very grateful for your help in this.”

“Please, it’s my pleasure to help. I’ll take my leave now, if you don’t mind,” she fixed her embroidered scarf and gave him a nod, “if you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

“I write if anything comes up,” Genji smiled, finally genuine warmth returning to his gaze as his hands by reflex accepted the book back into his hold. He waved his goodbye before picking his paper bag up and walking to to the cashiers. 

He could do this, his heart echoed with each step he’d completed to become the owner of the recipe collection. Satya’s words reminded him of the her support, she was sure Genji could handle this. 

A few minutes and another miniscule brain-freeze later, the recipe book was carefully hidden beneath the electronic parts he’d purchased, on the bottom of the paper bag. He couldn’t have Zenyatta spot his newest treasure now ahead of time, could he?

. . .

Few days later

 

“Now…” 

Jesse McCree wasn’t a person to suspect his own murder delivered by a good old friend, in his own home, by his own dining table with his German shepherd lying half-asleep at his feet. Across the table and confidently holding his gaze with rock-solid determination, Genji clicked his tongue in growing irritation and nodded at the plate again. 

“Hold on, Genji. You and the kitchen...”

“McCree, don’t make this more difficult than it already is,” the engineer cut in and Tuco raised his head from the floor in curiosity. Jesse’s eyes narrowed and he shifted to entwine and crack his fingers with a stretch in front of him. “Just… eat one already.”

The policeman in red plaid shirt and sweatpants glanced down at the plate once more, then back up at his friend’s strained, nervous expression. With a sigh, he turned his head to look down at his four-legged colleague and hummed in contemplation. 

“Who would look after you when I’m gone?”

“They are good, I swear!”

The American opened his arms in a genuine questioning manner. “Then why are you making this into such a big deal?” 

In utter frustration, Genji couldn’t help but close his eyes and pinch the bridge of his nose as he leant back into the support of the chair. Tuco got up and walked over to comfort him, gently prodding at the outer line of Genji’s thigh and enjoyed the man’s fingers soon sinking into his fur and knead at his ears. The dog’s reassuring presence helped Genji look back at the plate holding his first attempts at homemade chocolate truffles. They didn’t look bad at all. 

“Because it’s important that they are perfect. I need your opinion.”

Jesse held up a hand as if asking for a break, “hold on for a second.”

“I can’t tell you more, Jesse!”

“A-ah, buddy, we ain’t gonna play that game.”

“Jesse, for old time’s sake, not now!”

Lips pursing and now genuinely curious, Jesse leaned forth to place an elbow onto his knee and hold onto the chair’s arm with his free hand, “this is important for you, buddy, I get it, but you seem to be kinda… upset. I just want to say you can tell me anything, alright?”

“I know. “ Genji looked down to Tuco’s endearing eyes and couldn’t help but smile back at the dog. “This is really personal. I’ll tell you when I’m ready. You will see.”

“As you wish,” Jesse reached forward and finally got a piece of chocolate for himself to taste. Genji froze on his spot, breath held in suspense until the man would pop the dessert into his mouth, his eyes going wide. 

The policeman took a deep breath, then another and Genji saw him turn the piece of chocolate truffle around in his mouth, letting the piece melt away.

Jesse’s momentarily unfocused eyes returned to him, “Genji, this is heavenly. This… damn.“ The young engineer’s expression lit up in relief and joy at his words. ”And you were nervous about this? How much of this you have on you now?”

“Only this plate.”

“Damn, make some more then!”

Genuinely happy, an easy laugh rolled from Genji’s chest while the man took a piece of chocolate for himself, “yeah, now I definitely will.”

Beside him, Tuco’s curious eyes wandered at the table and his owner’s hand then jumped to see what Genji held between his fingers; when he couldn’t figure or see clearly, the dog let a single, pleading whine escape. Jesse chuckled, a warm and content rumble coming from the depth of his chest as he motioned for his four-legged best friend and colleague to return to him, “nah, buddy, you can’t have this, sorry. Here’s something you can eat, though,” and he reached over to the counter for a piece of dog-snack.

Tuco accepted the treat right away and settled by Jesse’s feet to chew on it. The men at the table enjoyed the comfortable silence for another few moments until the American would begin again, “so, you coming along this weekend? We’re gonna go bear-sighting.” 

“This weekend?” Genji reached for his phone in his pocket and unlocked the screen, his mumbling reflexively filling the air between them. “Let me check. There is this weekend, and the next is already… well, maybe.” Here he glanced up at Jesse and gave a nod, “perhaps Saturday evening.”

“Alright, I’ll pick you up around four.”

“Actually…” Genji cleared his throat as if it’d be dry, “come to Zenyatta’s place. I’ll be there.”

For a couple of seconds, Jesse said nothing. He was fondly observing the way his police dog finished up the last bits of his treat and his mind returned to the present only after Tuco expectantly looked up at him.

“I see,” the man said, and Genji was grateful for him leaving the matter where it was. He didn’t expect him to switch subjects so easily, however. The question surprised the researcher, with the weight it carried. “How’s your brother doing?”

Genji could only blink and recollect his thoughts for a good minute. Lately they’d been trying to keep contact even though their exchanges of texts were sporadic. Hanzo’s style was brief and factual like always and much was left for Genji’s already existing knowledge to fill in the gaps and read the clues.

As for the answer, the engineer tilted his head on the right and skeptically raised an eyebrow.

“He’s…” well, Genji waved a dismissive hand, “he’s working.”

Silently, understandingly Jesse nodded a few times with a dark shadow passing in his gaze as he digested the information and what it entailed. 

. . .

 

I’m too weak   
just too weak to break through.   
Never, never could I do.   
So, silently, in my own world,   
a private movie theatre   
I write our stories, silently.

Shiron Lai - Illusions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm not dead, the story isn't dead either! I'd like to thank you all for taking your time and coming back to read. I'm still working on Book 2, I just couldn't have you get the idea that I'm not :P Let me know what you think pleeeease I'm so so excited about Book 2!!


	18. Rising

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter ahead! As always, thank you Ruriska for helping me so much! You're a blessing and an excellent beta <3

To avoid unnecessary humiliation, Genji decided to experiment in his own kitchen, which resulted in spots and splashes of chocolate stains in various sizes in different locations all over the piles and the counter. Some he could actually clean up afterwards but as his excuses for visiting his home despite having most of his things already at Zenyatta’s place meant his time was also greatly diminishing. The semester was mercilessly going ahead with full-steam and with his latest article being out in the open he’d received hot and cold reactions from the scientific community. 

For the time being, Morrison advised him to refrain from replying to the critical responses, may they be positive or not. It was enough stress for both Genji and Dr. Ziegler to know that the entire robotics engineering and biomechanics research community had their eyes on their article for its innovative approaches. The conference in May would be the crucial step ahead, when he and Angela would hold an entire block with presentations and roundtable discussions. The thought both terrified Genji and filled him with courageous determination, only the reminder of Zenyatta’s company at the conference seeming to help him with keeping a cool head.

To reassure him of their support, as Genji was about to leave the office Reyes clapped a firm hand on the young man’s shoulder and told him to concentrate on his courses for the time being. They will handle the rest. Genji wished they could also ease the anxious fluttering of his heart at the thought of the conference and the pressure of having to outdo all his previous performances as a presenter. He knew Morrison was good at handling overstressed young minds like his, but the engineer also acknowledged that the senior researchers considered him well-oiled and experienced enough to handle this occasion too.

As a consequence Genji continued to lead his courses to the best of his abilities and diligently worked on Bastion’s programming. By the end of March he wanted the little guy to be able to recognize facial expressions and match them with the according feelings, much to Zenyatta’s glee and anticipation. The right parts would arrive soon enough.

With the weeks weaving into one another, Zenyatta had grown more relaxed and more like his natural self, the intense longing for Mondatta slowly subsiding and settling into a distant ache in his chest. While it remained an unspoken understanding between him and Genji, Zenyatta found his close friend’s company during meditations an immeasurable reassurance and grounding presence. Genji joined him for the meditation sessions with growing frequency which helped him regain a positive, confident foothold of his own life, not to mention that he felt a steadily growing satisfaction from helping Zenyatta in settling the shaken chords in his heart.

The dreaded middle of February caught Genji without him being prepared in the slightest. In Finland the day was dubbed “Friendship Day” instead of the romanticized one and while he did give nice cards to his friends and sent some by post, he had nothing in his hands when he arrived to Zenyatta’s office. Just the usual cinnamon chai, croissant and his own cup of coffee, like the inattentive friend he was on Friendship Day, he mentally kept kicking himself.

What if he simply couldn’t find or make a present good-enough for Zenyatta? The chocolate seemed too obvious, plus he hadn’t mastered the form of perfect, immaculate chocolate truffles just yet.

Wiping his hands on his black pants for the dozenth time that day, Genji pursed his lips and involuntarily fidgeted on his chair while Zenyatta enjoyed the milky yet spicy sensation the cinnamon chai rewarded him with. The literary scholar let a sigh of relaxation and relief escape his lips, which for the time being soothed the lively chattering nerves in Genji as well. The tremble and uncertainty in his heart was something Genji hadn’t experienced before in this intensity; when it came to the point that even his breath became uneven from the effect, part of him was suspecting some illness.

He tried to crack the code, he truly did. Where did the strange sensations come from? He wasn’t drinking more coffee than usual but he was about to turn thirty-four that year, was he getting too old for that amount of caffeine? Or was it the side-effect of him being so caught-up in the preparation processes for the conferences, was that why he made such a huge deal of Friendship Day? Was he just trying way too hard to avert his own attention from the actual problem?

Zenyatta did not truly care about such days in the calendar. He accepted and gave cards out of necessity, simply because it was a local tradition to do so and otherwise he didn’t go out of his way in the slightest. He wouldn’t notice the lack.

Genji didn’t understand the tightness in his ribcage every time he anticipated their daily meditation sessions or thought of easy yet comforting dishes to make for Zenyatta by the time the other would come home. 

At times when he arrived home earlier and had a few hours for himself (with Bastion learning to fit various sizes of balls into boots and shoes around him), Genji often found himself wondering about Zenyatta’s whereabouts at the given moment. He didn’t understand his own mind during those moments; of course Zenyatta was teaching or having a meeting with his thesis tutees, meeting Mei Ling and the archive staff, having a cup of tea with Satya, testing Lúcio’s music therapy program… 

And yet, here he was, making their dinner and watching his now thigh-high robot from his peripheral sight. Bastion had received new hands, he could now turn objects in his hold with the hooks and learn shapes and sizes. Quietly and deeply sunk in his thoughts, the engineer recalled the discussion he and Zenyatta had about writing an entirely new language program for Bastion so he would understand speech, Zenyatta assuming that Genji could “just sit down and write it in a few weeks” like he had the advanced motion-based ones. The Japanese man’s wide-eyed, disbelieved reaction told all Zenyatta needed to know.

“I- ah, thank you for assuming I could do such a thing, but that will take months! We are doing a small miracle here, Zenny, it takes time and me figuring it out on the way. I’ll need your help with the cognitive linguistics parts there…” 

That took the literature teacher off guard, his eyes suddenly going wide. “I’m not a cognitive linguist…!” 

Genji just dismissively waved with his free hand, the other still holding Bastion’s new hand, “you had a course about it before, plus we will figure something out as we go. I do want him to learn commands and put things together in his,” Genji quickly made quotation marks with two fingers,” ‘brain’, so to speak, but that will take a long time. But… we will get there,” he added, confidence and pleasant excitement returning to the glow in his eyes. “We will get there, Zenya.”

The sentiments echoed with unknown and strangely warm sensations in his chest afterwards, even during the night when his mind couldn’t find peace of quiet. Of course they will get there, Genji’s rational mind stated. It’s him and Zenyatta after all, they are in one package. 

It was supposed to be easy, his rational mind insisted sometimes with the tactfulness which resembled Hanzo’s, “ _ Just go and ask. Stop avoiding your own responsibility and grow up.” _

Determination battled with the tempting urge to keep everything in the same safe and stable routine they already had but then, when the idea of the hiking trip formed in the engineer’s mind, he couldn’t help but ask for reinforcements. If he wanted to do this right, and stop acting like a coward, he needed a carefully constructed plan with reliable backups. For both of their spring breaks, Genji intended to take them away from the town up to the North, spend a long weekend there and figure out more about his feelings. He still hadn’t gathered the courage to ask if Zenyatta fancied anyone and in their current agreement he saw no chance of actually reaching that point.

The idea and plan was simple and therefore, a brilliant one. They could play card games and enjoy some light alcohol in the evenings, go hiking in the gorgeous Lappish nature, not to mention that poor Santa hadn’t seen Genji for two years, the engineer had to remedy that too. If there would be still snow in the ski centre, they could go there as well.  

For a moment he wondered and his eyes narrowed when the thought occured in his mind once more. Why couldn’t he ask for double-reinforcements? It would be the perfect time, in the still frostcovered spring up in the Finnish Lapland it would be easier for his brother to unwind a little and torment Genji in his valuable free time. Just like when they were boys.

Snapping his thumb and middle finger, Genji’s lips curled into a confident grin while his hands took the chicken-parmesan casserole out from the oven and placed it carefully on the stove. Perfect timing, perfect place, Hanzo and Jesse would suffice as casual yet familiar distraction for Zenyatta not to suspect anything. After all, he couldn’t have that, and the literature scholar was sometimes too smart for his own good, and knew Genji like the back of his hand so by all means, Genji had the right to be extra careful with the planning. 

He couldn’t tell about it to anyone. Rest assured, Hanzo would definitely mess it up just to embarrass Genji. That used to be his favourite pastime activity after all. 

. . .

Jesse McCree wasn’t easily impressed by people. He had seen his fair share of the rotten, tainted part of humanity and didn’t intend to give them a break in return. He’d shot, been shot, and lived to tell the tale. The first time he set foot in Finland, it was colder than hell’s deepest pit yet with the night-sky above his Stetson brighter than anything he’d ever seen. That Aurora Borealis was indeed a miracle and a sight that kept luring him back to the North, not to mention the respectful, easy going culture the Finnish people lived by.

Before he realized, Jesse accepted the job and laid low as a sleeping agent on the Northern Russian border and by the time he came back to himself, he was in Middle-Finland as a retired Interpol agent, a simple police officer in an average sized, simple town. This, with a resident police dog’s supervision and the animal’s unconditionally loving companionship was all Jesse needed. When he glanced aside with tired mud-brown eyes from night shifts and Tuco grinned back at him, that sly son of a bitch by the closest meaning of the expression, Jesse knew he made the right decision. In the meantime, Tuco was eyeing Jesse’s chicken nuggets, the bastard.

But then again, Jesse wasn’t easily impressed by people, growing fond of them and making friends hadn’t exactly been his strongest suit, the years spent with the Interpol folks and the initial hesitation he caused around the locals took care of that. There ain’t many American-settled-Finnish police officers around, after all. Learning the language was indeed one hell of a ride, even before the years of becoming the sleeping agent his boss wanted him to be. At least his first name could pass as a Finnish one, with the same form but with a different pronunciation. 

So when six years ago he plucked a shitfaced Genji Shimada off an abused trash bin on the streets, dragged him in the station and spent the remainder of the night watching over the guy, Jesse also noticed that he hadn’t had that much fun in years. Playing poker, canasta and truth or dare with a sobering robotics engineer was not something usual in the small police station and Jesse grew to like Genji within the span of hours. By the time the guy’s friend (sweet, pure and heavily apologising Zenyatta) came to fetch Genji in the morning, they’d become fast friends. 

It didn’t take long to get Genji joining the hunting association where several familiar faces gathered for non-official evenings. Even if Genji himself didn’t hunt, he tagged along many times for their simple and manly get-togethers, as he did right now. And when Jesse meant manly, he meant it in the chopping wood types of activities, cleaning hunting gear, rifles and equipment, doing maintenance work around the association’s house in the middle of the forest, repairing cars and enjoying the company with the pleasant smell of beer and cigarette smoke surrounding them. 

Jesse McCree wasn’t easily impressed by people but Genji Shimada just had something in him, a certain brilliance with just the right amount of smug confidence. The same shit eating smugness was around when Genji beat McCree’s ass in poker, moments before Jesse would ask Mr. Morrison to join their match. With the distant scent of aftershave and timber strong in the air, Jesse shut his eyes for a moment to appreciate the general silence of the hall while Genji was reshuffling their cards and Tuco got up again from beneath the benches to sniff and examine what Genji’s hands were doing.

The engineer’s lips curled into a friendly smile and McCree felt pride swell in his chest as he thought of the improvement in Genji’s general attitude towards the animal. Few years ago, the appearance and presence of the police dog would put Genji on the defensive side; admittedly the man hadn’t had pets or animals in his close proximity during his life before so having a curious yet benevolent creature sniff him and gently prod for his affection was quite the perplexing, if not intimidating experience. Looking at them now, Tuco enjoying the friendly kneading fingers massage his scalp and just below his jawline, Jesse let his fond smile grow and fully stretch on his lips. 

“When’s your spring break, Jesse?” Genji asked, “ we could go somewhere up North for a few days, do you wanna come?”

“Sure, buddy. Let me ask bossman next week.”

On the far end of the sturdy, stocky wooden table, Jack Morrison’s eyes were on his dog as well: following Genji’s ministrations and probably thinking about whatever senior professors were supposed to think about. In the comfortable silence Jesse got up to fetch more beer for all three of them. 

That was all he needed. Friends around, a happy dog, beer and no complications.

“Mind if I ask my brother along?”

Upon Genji’s question, Jesse raised a curious, contemplative eyebrow. On a second thought…

“Ah, is that why you asked me? To protect you from occasional fratricide?”

“It’s okay if you lend me Tuco for the time being as well,” Genji’s cheeky eyes jumped back at him. “I promise I’ll bring him back in one piece.”

Jesse couldn’t help but laugh at the half-hearted suggestion, “not gonna happen, buddy. You can borrow all my stuff, but my dog is off-limits. If he goes, I go too. God knows, I do need some time off anyway.”

So it was settled. Genji smiled and bent on the chair to focus all his attention on the German shepherd. While Morrison raised a curious eyebrow on the other end of the table, Jesse winked at the old guy and grinned, “careful with your scowling Jack, your face might stay that way.”

“Don’t get cheeky with me, Jesse. Just try not to get yourself killed out there. Genji and skiing should be illegal.”

The robotics engineer’s expression was similar to someone being accused with heresy, “Mr. Morrison, that isn’t fair, I never even slipped. Besides, if the conference in Cambridge won’t kill me, nothing will.”

“Like we said, just keep a low profile for the time being and Gabriel and me will handle the rest. However, as your friend I would suggest going for a trip later, perhaps in June. You need to focus and prepare for the conference, you have to be on your best performance there.”

Genji nodded with a sigh, all previous cheer drained from his expression. His fingers continued to massage Tuco’s scalp for a long moment until he’d recollect his thoughts and glance up at McCree. The American responded to the unspoken question with a small, kind smirk.

“Might actually happen that I shift my spring break up to the summer,” he said, leaning back on the benches and stretching an arm above his head. “It’s been known to happen.”

“So we could go sometime in June?”

“Sounds good to me.”

. . .

His phone beeped and without looking Hanzo reached aside to unlock the screen, his eyes finishing the report’s line first on the laptop screen. Priorities.

Finally, he glanced aside.

01:48 am, Genji: “can you have a free weekend in June? 21-25?”

Reflexively, his index finger and thumb moved to embrace his temples with the graceful swipe of his palm to pull the stray hair aside from his vision. With his free hand, he pressed the hotkey.

“Siri, open next June in the calendar.”

The kind British voice replied in an instant with a window popping up on the screen, “these are the appointments that I found on your calendar in June, 2017”.

_ Good _ , Hanzo internally nodded and pulled his lips in a stern line. His eyes jumped to the week Genji wrote and the older Shimada felt his fingers crack in tension. “Trip to Osaka, Wakabayashi-sama’s 80th birthday”. 

1:48 am, reply to Genji: “maybe”

1:49 am, Genji: “wanna come hiking?”

_ Hiking,  _ Hanzo leant back in the chair with the phone’s kanjis flashing in his mind with all possible meanings they carried. Hiking, being in nature, getting sweaty and walk for miles on end, no civilization, no appointments, no calls, no immediate, urgent problems that would require him, and only him to solve them. Quietness. This living, breathing hell of corporate machine would need to go on without the main processor’s constant presence? 

Could he allow that?

Oh, if Genji knew how tempting that was. Hanzo felt a shuddering wave of relief wash over him just by imagining himself out in the embrace of nature. The sounds of a nearby waterfall, woodpecker and singing birds invisibly keeping them company, the soft breeze with the pungent aroma of pine. Green and brown in so many shades and variations that Hanzo would never stop wondering about the miracles and wonders nature could paint for humanity just by existing. 

It wasn’t short of a miracle that he remembered such things in the first place. Been too long since he’d set foot in a proper, non-artificial forest at all… if the outskirts of Aokigahara counted as such.

On top of all that constantly begged for his attention, now Hanzo had to arrange an entire weekend of vacation? From the deepest pits of his chest, a low rumble of a hearty laugh thrummed up his throat, gently evaporating in the silence of the night. Vacation? Did he even remember what that was?

Just to humor himself, he almost asked Siri what the word meant.

Oh, who was he kidding. 

His authoritative, masculine voice uttering the line was enough to bubble more entertainment up in his overexerted, exhausted mind, “Siri, define ‘vacation’.”

With the index finger and thumb of his left hand tiredly pressing at his temples, Hanzo continued letting the deep rumble of the chuckle entertain his fatigued mind. He needed a new hobby. The sooner the better.

_ “From 3 definitions of ‘vacation’, the first one is: leisure time away from work devoted to rest or pleasure.” _

With a sigh that carried burdens of a thousand men, Hanzo shook his head in nothing less but defeat and set his phone aside.

 

For an absolutely understandable reason, he only remembered texting back a few days later.

21:32, reply to Genji. “Ok”

 

To which within a span of a minute his brother typed an answer.

21:32, Genji: “ sweetヾ(・ω・*)ノ are you allergic to dogs?”

21:33, reply to Genji: “no.”

21.33. Genji: “good, my friend Jesse has a dog he will come too!”

Hanzo, the grand manifestation of dignified authority, took a moment to look around his office and confirmed that neither of his assistants or secretaries would be around as he typed the next message,

21:34 reply to Genji: “ok（◞‿◟）see you in June then”

This unleashed the beeping hell from his phone.

21:34, Genji: “Hanzo u ok”

21:34, Genji: “did u just emote me”

21:34, Genji: “hang in there”

21:34, Genji: “ill call you”

21:35, Genji: “a moment”

Involuntarily Hanzo grumbled like the depth of the ocean, under several layers of decorum yet his environment was well aware of every rumbling grunt.

21:35, reply to Genji: “im fine you idiot stop harassing me”

21:35, Genji: “there we go, you scared me for a moment brother”

He rolled his eyes with such magnificent skill that his ancestors released a contented sigh in their graves. Such talents hadn’t gone to waste.

 

. . .

By the week before mid-March, the faculty of robotics engineering and Jesse McCree began to suspect that Genji had gone crazy with his new obsession. He had gifted at least two dozen desserts each to Lúcio, Hana and Mr. Morrison and still, he had numerous pieces in his flat which turned out so bad by his standards that they weren’t fit to be presents at all. The only one still believing in his sanity was Satya, she completely understood and sympathized with the struggle Genji went through when he said, he just couldn’t get the chocolates  _ right _ , to look  _ perfect. _

Undoubtedly, they had to look and taste like heaven encapsulated. He wouldn’t settle with less. 

With the dreaded day approaching, Genji grew even more restless than he was, lately. He either had trouble with the railing balance in his fridge or with the silicon forms, or the ingredients but no matter how much he tried, he always had a crack or an uneven surface somehow. Fortunately, he could keep this under the carpet and still hidden from Zenyatta; had the Nepalese scholar figured his plans, Genji would be in need of a rock-solid explanation and clarification of this newfound obsession. 

The weekend before the day, Genji realized that he didn’t have enough of the perfect ones to fill a decent sized tupperware. Standing almost stupefied in his own kitchen, the engineer went through his neatly stacked and meticulously prepared pieces of chocolate truffles and in the end only gave a thoroughly dissatisfied shake of his head. Monstrosities, the lot of them. Unhelpful, ungrateful little pieces. At least Bastion’s new parts were useful, these were just wasting his time and space.

Genji closed the fridge and weighed his options. 

. . .

“All good comes to an end”, Zenyatta mumbled to himself melancholically and pretended to be fully occupied with a stack of Lao Tzu in his bedroom until Genji finished packing. Mentally gripping his heart in a tight clutch, the Nepalese man gathered his will once more and focused on browsing through  _ The Way of Life _ , only his gaze betraying his attention being distant from the present. 

For some time he suspected that it would come to this. Genji would sooner or later decide to move back to his own flat, of course he would, Zenyatta mentally added. The trembling in his fingers didn’t seem to calm, neither his anxiously fluttering heart. He couldn’t stop Genji, he knew that so all he could do was curl his fingers into a loosely held fist and press it tightly against his trembling ribcage in a feeble attempt to anchor himself. First Mondatta had left in January and the man’s absence was still a deeply wedged, hurting claw in Zenyatta’s heart, losing the presence of a loved one who loved him back in return. 

He couldn’t say anything, couldn’t ask Genji to stay even if behind the carefully constructed walls, his heart would weep from the weight of loneliness. Once again, the pressure in his chest and the aching loss of his beloved’s presence would return with greater intensity. Involuntarily he moved both arms to catch his own middle in a tight, reassuring hold. Zenyatta bit into his upper lip to stifle the slightest shake in his breathe. Genji couldn’t know. He was free to leave. 

All Zenyatta could do was wait until the man would be gone and only then, let the flow of sorrow roam freely until bit by bit he would stitch his heart together once more as best he could. Glancing around his silently watching books and trinkets, Zenyatta pled for a moment of peace.

In the meantime, Genji glanced across his surroundings and took inventory of his possessions already in the duffle bag. Laptops in their cases, his most important devices and tool kits, books and notepads… pursing his lips in contemplation mixed with an insatiable nervousness, the man hummed. 

Safely hidden from the other’s view in his bedroom, Zenyatta attempted to take a steadying breath and shut his eyes tight. It was Genji’s choice, his decision. Once he wasgone, Zenyatta would meditate and ease the scorching pain, the reopening bleeding wound their parting would inflict. For who knows how long, again, he would be alone. 

Naturally he understood Genji’s decision. He had to focus on something which couldn’t be done here, something for the conference. It would be selfish of Zenyatta to wish he could keep Genji around himself for the sake of their friendship, his mind kept repeating. Genji didn’t belong to anyone, he was his own person.

Even if every night when Zenyatta retired to his bedroom and tucked himself in, knowing that Genji was right in the other room and they could still talk through the open doors, he felt contentment and happiness guide him to sleep. For the first night in two months, it’d be the gnawing teeth of loneliness deeply wedged into his heart and the silence of his flat keeping him company, Mondatta’s departure a still gaping, open wound on his heart. Now Genji… 

His heart would ache, longing and desperate for a loving touch, a smile, a presence but the only reply he would get from the universe would be the beeping of a robot in the other room.  He just had to hold on until summer, to see his family again. Hold on until summer. His eyes welled up with the deepest pain of longing.

When Genji stated that he was done and would take his departure, Zenyatta tightened his hold around his middle and his heart more fiercely in a weak attempt to collect his composure. His deep chestnut eyes remained distant and lingered in the emptiness in front of him for several seconds before a diminutive, trembling sigh would escape his lips. He had to be strong. He had to stay strong and walk the universe with unfaltering faith in its course no matter what fate would steer his way.

Slowly he stood and to be sure, wiped his face with a sleeve of his green turtleneck. 

By the time he made it to the entrance area, Genji had placed the duffel bag at the door and was crouched down to tie the laces of his winter boots. For the time being Zenyatta was content lingering at the wall dividing the kitchen and the living room, leaning against it with folded arms and expression empty. He had no say in this, after all.

When Genji stood and pulled the hood of his pullover on his head so it’d be easier to put his coat on, his eyes wandered aimlessly around before finding his friend’s figure standing at the wall. The moment his gaze took in the forlorn, solemn posture Zenyatta held himself and found nothing but well guarded sadness in the deep chestnut eyes, Genji’s thoughts pulled to a freezing halt. 

The engineer felt his heart leap into his throat in nothing less than what he would call alarm. Reflexively his fingers curled and tightened into a fist, shoulders and entire upper body tensing up at the heart wrenching sight. His gaze hardened along with the lines along his jaw from the instant plummet of his mood, the unforgiving ticks of the nearby clock passing by above him in judgement. This was all his doing.

Lately, Genji had gotten used to hearing and conversing with a previously unheard voice in his heart. 

_ Is this worth it? _

Frowning, the man stiffened once more and released a huff of air through his nose like a coiling serpent, refusing to meet the enemy’s gaze. Hazelnut eyes pinning his own conscience at the floor, Genji noticed the unfamiliar way his ribcage tightened in an undeniable ache.

He promised to stay.

Zenyatta raised his chestnut brown eyes which only faintly, barely had any light left in their sunken, resigned gaze. As if he returned from a journey deep in his soul, the man raised a questioning eyebrow and glanced around the floor, “did you forget something?”

Instinctively, Genji averted his eyes in disbelief and with the beginning of a small smirk on his lips, hummed in newfound reassurance. 

_ Stop being a coward? Might as well start today,  _ he inwardly stated.

With a long and almost painfully deep sigh, Genji allowed the smirk on his lips grow into a reassuring smile and one by one he kicked his boots off, much to Zenyatta’s open and unabashed surprise. As Genji replaced his hood back on the nape of neck and with a nonchalant move, pushed the duffel back to the wall with his foot, the other man visibly tensed, fingers involuntarily clutching at his middle once more while uncertain and analytic chestnut eyes followed Genji’s every move.

As the Japanese man took the outer, winterproof shell-pants off, it finally dawned on Zenyatta as well.

Anticipation, relief and unhidden happiness took place of the solemn, faded glint in the chestnut brown gaze, the eyes Genji would seek and rely upon in case of uncertainty. He went against his inhibitions and stepped forth, across the boundary between the entrance area and the kitchen, which finally drew on Zenyatta’s courage to unite their gazes, his figure appearing much smaller in comparison to Genji’s self-assured stance. When the engineer gave a short, quick shake of his head as a reply to an unspoken question, the other nodded, sentiment and gratefulness coursing in his eyes, touching Genji’s own heart with balmy satisfaction as if a drop of sunshine would cover him in warmth and with the gentlest pull he guided Zenyatta into a reassuring embrace.

Only a few moments later, as Genji’s arms were safely and steadily wound around Zenyatta’s shoulder and middle while the shorter man allowed himself to relax and find solace in his warm presence, did the engineer speak. His voice remained quiet, barely above a whisper and only for Zenyatta to hear. 

“I’m sorry. I was selfish and didn’t think it through.”

His mind hazy with the sluggishness of contentment and the tide of relief still warmly enveloping his whole being from both inside and outside, Zenyatta’s reply was a simple hum and a smile. From the steady and tight hold of Genji’s arms around him, his view consisted of the kitchen wall and the spot where Mondatta used to sit during the evenings in winter. Longing clenched around his throat and heart, the pain of separation still sometimes a tug too harsh.

“Zenyatta, may I use your kitchen?

Needless to say, the question had the Nepalese scholar smile wider in joy, “of course, Genji. You need no permission for that.”

From the following silence however, Zenyatta already suspected something. Genji took a deep breath through his nose which the smaller man felt as a gentle breeze on the top of his head, anticipating the other’s words to come in any given moment. For a minute which seemed like eternity dragged by a perch, Genji was contemplating on the answer, the delicate edge of a blade he danced on in order to hide his true initiative behind the new hobby. Zenyatta read his tells, read between his lines far better than anyone, keeping anything secret from his was already hazardous in itself. Genji knew that sooner or later the Nepalese man would figure all out on his own.

His jawline strained from the realization, the disappointment wedging itself just right into his determination. Zenyatta would figure it out on his own, sooner or later, even if Genji would be the coward that he continued to be.

He ended up saying, “actually, this would be a bit messy, that’s why I’ve been going home to my own place. I can’t get it right, it just never works out and…”

Out of Genji’s line of sight, Zenyatta raised an unimpressed eyebrow and slowly leaned away from his friend to raise his questioning, curious eyes to Genji’s pursed lips, his tense and straight posture and the timid look in his eyes. 

“Genji, whatever it is, you can tell me. I’ll help you the best I can.”

There, Zenyatta saw the beginning of an inhale and the sharp fullstop with which Genji stopped whatever he was going to say. In the end, the gaze of his friend softened and the shorter man felt appreciation and unabashed adoration shine through the hazelnut eyes and pour onto him. For a moment Zenyatta’s mind ceased to follow the passing of time. 

“You know,” Genji’s voice hit a deep, unusual gentleness with content smile growing on his lips. “I wonder if you’d be up for making chocolate with me? It seems simple, but I really, really can’t get it right.”

With his fingers still playing with Genji’s hoodie around his waistline, Zenyatta took his time to wrap the idea around his head. In the end he raised his warm, knowing chestnut gaze to meet Genji’s eyes and give him a curt nod.

“Alright, Genji. I’m sure we'll figure it out.” 

. . .

Truth to be told, Zenyatta had never had the pleasure of making chocolate truffles so when Genji returned with the necessary supplies and equipment, the Nepalese man took every piece into his hand for closer inspection. Silicone molds, measuring cups and several types of chocolate were arranged into a neat pile and yet when Genji pulled a recipe book with rather appetizing images on its front cover from his backpack, Zenyatta’s lips parted in silent awe. So those were the desserts Genji intended to create? 

After a quick glance at the rather simplistic truffles patiently sitting in the tupperware, Zenyatta cleared his throat and accepted the book into his hands with a tentative remark, “one thing is sure, I can see the perseverance in your work.”

Genji bit into his lower lip to stifle a smile as he stepped to the counter to sort the equipment, “is that so?”

“Definitely,” his playful eyes met Genji’s for a moment and he opened the book at the bookmarked page. It included a quite similar design of truffles like in the tupperware although Zenyatta noticed that the instructions were meticulously written with very precise measurements. He wasn’t used to such style, since he mostly used his mother’s recipes when it came to baking and in their line of work, even having enough time for baking such pastries was a luxury… nevertheless, his mother used such instructions like “when it’s airy and puffy enough” or “if the dough doesn’t stick to your hand anymore”, so Zenyatta could recall all those times they baked together, his sisters criticising his attempts or teasing him for wearing a pink apron adorned with flowers. 

With a nostalgic sigh, Zenyatta blinked a few times before returning to the present to be greeted with the curious, gleeful yet analytic gaze of his love. Genji’s lips curled into a witty smile yet his voice remained gentle as he spoke,

“Earth calling Zenyatta, Zenny I need you to concentrate here.”  

“I… sorry. I spaced out.” 

This time, Genji simply raised a questioning eyebrow and leaned in a little closer with a silicone mold in his hand, eyes mockingly serious but Zenyatta simply replied with a dismissive wave of his hand, “nothing special. Just remembered a few things about how we used to bake at home with my Mom.” 

Gaze softening and returning to the counter, Genji gave a small nod and pursed his lips in uncertainty. 

“We could also do something that you would like,” he noted and felt warmth spread in his chest upon seeing gratitude and fondness shine in Zenyatta’s chestnut eyes. “I know you miss your family greatly.”

“Perhaps next time. Let’s do these now, do you want to make the same ones?”

“Yeah, I think these are simple and don’t require special ingredients like others.”

Zenyatta nodded and quickly read the instructions once more before placing the book in front of them both on the kitchen counter. As they stood side by side, both looking at the recipe book with Bastion’s occasional robotical noises and beeps providing background noise, Zenyatta felt the same grounding, peaceful sensation of Genji’s presence seep into his being. Even though the engineer beside him was already in the midst of calculating and planning all necessary steps to create the desserts, Zenyatta couldn’t help his genuinely happy, grateful smile from growing on his lips.

As ridiculous as it seemed from Zenyatta side to watch Genji taking this task as seriously as if his academic career would depend on it, he enjoyed every single moment of their time spent together making the chocolates. Genji’s meticulous, carefully planned moves and borderline irrational obsession with the correct measurements were amusing to follow from the sidelines. 

He only noticed the time they spent in the kitchen when Bastion approached them with the beeping pattern that meant his battery levels being low. For the entire evening his owners were occupied with making dessert. 

While Genji picked Bastion off the ground and carried him to the charger, Zenyatta stepped into his place at the silicone molds and continued filling them with the melted chocolate one by one. His moves weren’t as slow and precise like Genji’s had been and even though he tried his best, Zenyatta could already see the practice showing from Genji’s side. 

When the mold was filled and placed into the fridge to rest by the other molds’ side, Zenyatta joined Genji at the charger and quietly watched the engineer do minor checkups on the robot’s joints and circuits surrounding his neck. 

“I put the molds into the fridge,” he said eventually, at which Genji replied with a nod. 

“Now we wait and see…” he placed the small tool beside Bastion’s foot and raised his eyes to meet Zenyatta’s slightly tired yet fond gaze. A thought visibly crossed his mind as his eyes playfully narrowed followed by a small smirk. “Want to watch a movie?”

Breathing deeply and letting the air fill lungs and help anchoring, slowing the hammering of his loving heart in his chest, Zenyatta hummed in contentment. “Of course, why not? You can choose now.”

Surprisingly, Genji shook his head and reached up with a hand to take a few of his fingers into his hold. “No, you choose.”

The gesture had the Nepalese man’s eyes grow wider for a quick moment before regaining control over his features. What kind of special occasion was this? For a few seconds, he said nothing, only savoured the touch of Genji’s fingers between his own and attempted to contain the swelling and constricting tightness around his ribcage. Oh, he almost forgot, it was so easy to give in to this.

In an attempt to sound natural, Zenyatta said the first studio with the first movie that popped into his mind.

“Dreamworks? How To Train Your Dragon?” 

If Genji’s amused grin was any sign of approval, Zenyatta didn’t know what else could it be, especially when the engineer stood and shifted his hand from Zenyatta’s hold to brush along his arm in a warm gesture.

“As a good friend of mine would say, oh, this is my jam!”

The literary scholar couldn’t help but smile at the imitation and at Genji’s enthusiasm as well, “alright, then. We’ll watch that.”

. . .

A few hours later and after deciding on watching the sequel too, Genji stood from the couch to get a blanket for Zenyatta and get another plate of their newly made chocolate. As he gently popped each piece of dessert from the mold onto the plate, Genji listened to the way Zenyatta was explaining him all the implications of the movie’s motifs and hints at social issues, inwardly enjoying the pleasing sensation of deja vu. He couldn’t recall how many times they have had these conversations after movies, how many times he’d wrapped Zenyatta into a blanket so he would stay warm, how many times he would prepare snacks for them to watch the sequel to whichever movie they would choose. 

It was their routine, one that Genji inwardly swore to keep and cherish just for the two of them, hoping that this uplifting easiness would never cease from their lives. It was just Zenyatta and him after all. Simply yet perfectly.

 

 

trust your heart

if the seas catch fire

(and live by love

though the stars go backward)

E.E. Cummings - ("dive for dreams...")


	19. Sinking deeper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genji is more and more focused on the upcoming conferences and while Zenyatta is steadfastly by his side, he also gains an unexpected ally very soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh wow I'm so sorry. I'm so terribly sorry. I hope someone is still here. QQ I'm so sorry. But... hey... enjoy ;)

 

With music softly playing in his headset, Genji put his engineer ruler down by the pencil and straightened his back to look at the blueprint once more. Frowning, he bit into his lower lip in focus and squinted to visualize the plans from a different perspective, so he could hand it over to Zenyatta for inspection.

The teacher of literature accepted the stacks of papers with a knowing nod and made space beside himself on the sofa.

“So, this is the joint of his ankle, the newest version. I stopped counting which prototype, but… here it is.”

“Wonderful, Genji.”

“With this, he will have the same mobility like a human ankle would, but it also has the sensitivity of pressure… it’s… complicated, but how does it look?”

“It looks compact and…” with a tilt of his head Zenyatta hummed. “It looks strange, modern. I like the colours.”

“Thanks. That’s good. It has to look professional and have an appealing design otherwise Satya would not support it,” here the engineer took one paper from the back of the stack to the front, a coloured version of how Bastion’s new ankle would look like. At the sight of the construction Zenyatta’s expression lit up in recognition.

“A prosthetic?”

“Could be converted into one, that’s what… Angela’s team would work on. That’s what we want to get the funds for,” Genji nodded and from a more comfortable position he raised an arm to place it behind Zenyatta on the sofa. The Nepalese teacher had to take a steadying breath as he looked at the coloured designs one by one, his amazement at his love’s brilliance growing.

“Genji, this is… amazing! All of it! This would change so much, I’m sure!”

“Oh, I haven’t even told you half of it, professional secrecy and all. We’re working on something big, and… I want you to be a part of it too, Zenyatta.”

That drew the man’s attention away from the blueprints and designs to the other, chestnut eyes hesitant yet hopeful for a moment before their gazes would unite and Genji’s confidant certainty would reassure Zenyatta too.

“That would be an honor to me, Genji.”

“No, it would be ours. I mean, the whole team thinks the same. Your assistance is already invaluable since you revised my project plan in the very beginning, remember? Your language magic.”

With a dismissive wave of his hand Zenyatta smiled, “anything for you, Genji.”

“Well, let me do the same for you too.”

The almost blatant statement froze Zenyatta on the spot for the split of the second. If it would be that simple.

“Oh.”

“When you come with me to the conferences, I know you’ll be there on the panels but I’d like you to meet the creme of the crop at the dinner parties afterwards. You’re one of the best literature and linguistics teacher and educator I know.”

“Genji… I doubt robotics and mechatronics research needs Introduction to Oriental literature courses…”

“You underestimate yourself, Zenyatta,” with a shake of his head, Genji frowned for a moment then smiled once more. “I’m not talking about your field specifically. I’m talking about your talent at teaching people without them noticing they are being taught. You’re an educator. You don’t only teach literature, you teach ambition, critical thinking, opening people’s minds to horizons they never dreamt of before. Awareness of one’s self, the impact on our society, seeking intellectual challenge…Many people try and fail doing what you do just by the flick of your fingers,” Genji’s quiet chuckle caused a low key, pleasant shiver running down on the other’s spine. ”You probably don’t notice how impressive you are when you talk about literature and society. It’s…breathtaking.”

The amount of compliments placed a heavy yet sweet ache in the man’s chest, and he had to place the stack of papers on the coffee table in order to steady his racing thoughts and the sudden whirlwind of emotions. Is that… truly what Genji thought about him?

“I just do what is expected of me,” he ended up muttering.

“You do so much more than that,” reaching forth, Genji took one of his hands into his hold and shifted closer to Zenyatta as well, hazelnut eyes still searching for his gaze. “You guide people through literature. I remember you said, society needs humanities, such as literature and art because without them, we would have no idea how our society even works, how human hearts work. We would not know ambition, the desire to improve and understand the cause and effect of our actions. You made me understand the importance of it all. Imagine a world without art, knowledge and intelligence age-old and collected to understand human nature, politics, society, how do we construct our lives and thinking? Where would we be without critical thinking?”

“Genji, this is just what all teachers of literature and languages would do…”

“Let me-- Zenyatta. Before you introduced me to what literature and philosophy truly mean, I had no idea how complex humans were. We are so complicated, each and every one of us. Without you, I probably never would have understood how simple words can mirror one’s entire being on paper. I would never have picked up a book about improving myself, because I did not know I could become better. Without your guidance. Without me noticing that-- you, it was you all along.”

Pursing his lips tightly, Zenyatta’s throat clenched into an iron-tight grip, his eyes vehemently fighting the tide of emotion welling up.

“You’re a brilliant guide, Zenyatta. You’re…” sighing faintly, Genji swallowed once to recollect his thoughts and caressed the top of Zenyatta’s palm a few times for emphasis. “You’re amazing. I want you to know that.”

A loud click and sparking electric noises disrupted them, accompanied by Bastion’s alarmed beeping. Both of them whipped their heads at the direction of the kitchen and with the speed of an agile feline Genji was already in motion. By using his hand on the back on the sofa, he grabbed it and pulled his entire body up to leap across it and quickly be in the kitchen with a few strides. With another lightning speed reflex he snatched his phone off Bastion’s fingers, away from one hole of the toaster.

A few curses left his lips accordingly while Zenyatta was still in shock at the brave yet inexplicable actions of the robot.

“Bastion?”

“He put--?”

“He put my phone in the toaster!”

Zenyatta couldn’t help but cup his forehead into a palm and shake his head, “why would he do that?”

“He is learning shapes and sizes, what shape fits where… that’s why he filled your boots with bottles the other day.”

“Ah… gosh, you were quick.”

The robot’s camera eyes were back on Genji’s phone and he beeped as he pleadingly reached up, asking for the phone again. In response the engineer picked him up by his armpits and carried him into the living room.

“Bastion, no, you can’t…we need some calibrations here I think.”

“Wait, is that why he tried to stuff the keys into the VHS player…”

“Yeah. Exactly.”

Sympathetically Zenyatta patted the robot’s head who in response beeped and booped happily a few times at the sight of him, “poor Bastion, Genji’s phone doesn’t go in the toaster…”

“The toaster has the exact same size holes like my phone’s length, and it has wider slots so the phone fits in there quite well. I see the logic, Bastion but… no. Alright, let’s connect you to the laptops.”

Smiling and still patting the machine, Zenyatta sighed with reluctance while Genji collected the cables and applied them to both ends. The engineer’s work was a slow and yet sometimes hectic one, considering how quickly he had to respond to several types of behaviour from Bastion’s side. His vision for colors was far from done and his movement sometimes still dragged, occasionally he halted completely in the middle of a move to recalibrate it completely.

Zenyatta had no idea how complicated creating an individually thinking construction was, but he was convinced that if someone, it would be Genji to be able to understand and comprehend the true depth of what all that entailed.

 

. . .

Hanzo took every small improvement as little victories; from the fact that now he managed to have five hours of sleep at night and three hours free time in the afternoons. Although it went very slowly indeed, he managed to get a lot of day-to-day nuisance off his back with his assistant’s help; ever since he promoted Noriko to be his personal and only assistant to deal with all but the most urgent matters, she’d been a blessing to his sanity. Strange as it was, but ironically asking Siri about the definitions of things normal people could do (nap, vacation, taking a break) didn’t entertain Hanzo like it used to.

Noriko was always collected, precise and just like him she didn’t tolerate laziness or flaws from their coworkers. Hanzo genuinely appreciated her efforts to make his life easer, may they belong to business or private matters, and gave her a generous raise and more days off to spend with her significant other. For his trip to Finland, she agreed to accompany him and stay in the town near the airport, should Hanzo require anything or some kind of emergency occurred at the company. With his experience, Hanzo doubted there would be anything else than the usual litany of every imbecile wailing for his attention. For some reason however, if it was Noriko taking his calls and handling all issues that she had the authority to, people did not pester Hanzo as often.

Noriko was also extremely talented at braiding hair. More than once, Hanzo had asked her to make him exquisite yet masculine compositions in the small hours of the night and she never failed to amaze him. Those times, Hanzo admitted that they had fun, the kind filled with mockery, pretended seriousness and the purposeful overuse of decorum.

With her sitting across the hotel room and reading the review about the latest installment of Hanzo’s favourite detective book series, he eyed her for a good minute before beginning to answer Genji’s insistent messaging. With Berlin’s constant humming on the other side of the transit hotel’s windows, Hanzo took a deep breath and rubbed his fatigued eyes as he focused on the smartphone’s screen.

 

03:35 am Genji: “Hanzo u still coming in June pls just double checking”

03:35 am Genji: “answer me when you can please”

03:36 am Genji: “( •̀ᄇ• ́)ﻭ✧ Zenyatta had a genius idea ”

03:38 am Genji: “but it depends if you can still make it or not i need to know ヾ(｡･ω･｡)”

03:39 am Genji: “so please answer as soon as you can ”

03:42 am Genji “maybe you should come to JKL directly, from here I can pick you up with car”

03:42 am reply to Genji: “why”

03:43 am Genji “oh hello! ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ bc Helsinki - JKL 300 km dont drive that again Hanzo”

03:43 am reply to Genji: “challenge me. But ok. There is inland flight there right?”

03:44 am Genji: “yes, Helsinki -JKL. If you come there, I pick you up from the airport.”

05:42 am reply to Genji: “not necessary, I’m renting a car like always. And from… there?”

03:43 am Genji: “ok here is the address in JKL GPS is your friend http://….”

03:44 am reply to Genji: “got it. Thanks. Ill arrive 6 in the morning to Helsinki”

03:45 am Genji: “k then approximately you arrive to JKL around 7:30 and the ride is around half an hour”

To double-check, Hanzo opened the finnair website and typed in the necessary details. As he glanced up at Noriko, he noticed that she was now playing Candy Crush. For a moment the man hesitated to remind her of their duties but then reminded himself of the time and space. She willingly accompanied him to all his trips without fail and kept a brilliant hold on everything happening around Hanzo. He ended up buying tickets for her too; who knows, maybe she would like this part of Finland.

03:50 am reply to Genji: “ok I bought the tickets”

03:50 am Genji: “awesome i cant wait!! (ﾉ≧∀≦)ﾉ”

Hanzo glanced aside to his assistant and confirmed that she wasn’t looking at him anytime soon.

03:51 am reply to Genji: “ヽ(´∀｀ヽ) see you soon”

03:52 am Genji: “ヾ(´▽｀*;)ゝ you’ll finally meet Zenyatta and Jesse!”

Hanzo stared at the windowpanes in a utterly unimpressed manner as if he was in a reality show. He took a deep breath.

03:53 am reply to Genji: “(⌐■_■)┌ and who is this Jesse you speak of”

With an almost painful admission, he could imagine Genji sitting in his home office and staring wide-eyed at his own phone, then erupting in a full-bodied laughter at Hanzo, emoting.

03:55 am Genji: “Hanzo i think you should sleep”

03:56 am reply to Genji: “what is sleep you weakling”

Brows pulling in mock-sulking, Hanzo huffed in insolence and grumped for a few minutes. Why had Genji never answered his question when it came to introducing this Jesse person? He didn’t know if it was a Finnish person or not to begin with? A local friend of Genji or a coworker? A fellow researcher? A second partner in crime?

He grunted and typed a quick goodbye to his brother before hitting the anonymous page on his browser and searched for Genji’s facebook. A person called Jesse, who had a dog.

. . .

Thinking of the upcoming series of negotiations, Hanzo felt a drained, weak sigh leave his lips as his eyes wandered to the night sky’s orange and dirty grey colours above Berlin. From one trade capital to another, from one meeting to another.

The ache in his spine had been begging for him to lie down for many hours by now and while Hanzo couldn’t wish for anything more than a bed and a few hours of sleep, he had work to do. His laptop screen was already littered with emails. This would never end… the next day was packed from six am to eleven pm, with a two hours break from one pm. Another jab of pain at his ribcage and Hanzo shifted in the chair, laptop slightly jostling in his lap.

As his mind slowly, gradually stilled and he continued to let his gaze wander around the buildings, the countless cars passing in the traffic, Hanzo allowed himself a moment to think.

This would only end with his own undoing, and for years Hanzo had known that. He wasn’t supposed to, but one elder council meeting out of hand and it was out in the open. If he went on like this, he’d end up like his father, and his father before him.

He knew the symptoms. Noticed them on himself as well.

As his fatigued, hazy eyes wandered back to the laptop and its belligerent light in the night, Hanzo frowned. There was nothing more he could do. Whether or not he wished to have a say in his own life, ultimately it was not up to him and by this time, age thirty-eight… he should’ve gotten used to that. Ever since Genji was cast out. Ever since then, this was his burden to carry, all by himself.

Looking down at his own hands, the veins coursing underneath his skin, Hanzo felt a tremble of exhaustion run down his spine and a wave of cold and weakness raking its way up. For a moment his vision grew hazy again and he needed to steady himself on the chair’s arm, to catch his own upper body.

Hanzo was tired. He’d admitted it to himself already, several times so, but it did not help. No matter how much enlightenment or revelation of truth he anticipated from the confession, it did not help one bit. His new schedule allowed him a bit more time to relax but ultimately even that was a futile attempt to fix his way of life which had gone wrong decades ago.

He would sooner die than be allowed to quit this hell that was his everyday life. The faces of a thousand men, greedy dogs with never ending thirst of demands from him, only him, always him. He couldn’t give any more to them, and yet this entire chain of suffering he called life was only the result of a bargain gone wrong.

There was no way to correct it. The decades ran by in a seamless chain which left him behind on the bitter end with the heavy metallic balls snapped to his feet and with no one to lean on. The quicksand of time beneath mercilessly gripped him by his declining health and age and even though during the day Hanzo had no trouble fulfilling the duties of a chairman and carried the Shimada name with the reputation and dignity it required, somehow with the night time approaching all these shadows began to catch up to him.

Wherever he would go, whatever he would do he’d forever be the living heart of the corporal machine, buried deep inside the core until this very heart would stop beating. Until then, there was nothing else he could do but continue to carry out everything his duty and honor demanded.

Except…

The one way out.

Shaking his head in a sudden gesture of denial, Hanzo took a breath to steady his mind once more. He had no time for these thoughts. He had to be present, mind and soul, body… he had to go on. There was no other way.

Except…

There was.

Fingers trembling and his lips parting for a silently pleading, shaky breath, _Noriko, make it stop_ , _someone, Genji, make it stop_ , he pinched the bridge of his nose and concentrated on the ground beneath his feet for a good hard moment. He was in Berlin. Such a marvelous city, filled with history…

He needed out. In that very moment. He needed help, to get away from these thoughts, even if he couldn’t correct his life any longer, if he had no chance to go back and make all those mistakes disappear, the daggers in his back which he carried every single day, with every breath.

Hanzo could barely notice how his breathing quickened and his palm was blocking his vision, elbows on his knees. He couldn’t go back. He would never have a family to call his own, it was simply not meant for him, his mind echoed bitterly once more, for the millionth time.

Another chilling shiver ran down his spine, gripping his breath for a moment.

Of all the things forever out of his reach, Hanzo begged his own mind just to let him see his brother once more. Just this once. One more time.

Now.

“Noriko-san,” he spoke, quicker than his mind could have protested. “We are going to Finland instead. The day after tomorrow.”

The unabashed, unhidden surprise on her expression quickly disappeared behind her professional mask as she nodded and reached for her laptop in an instant. “Yes, Shimada-sama. Right away.”

“Get me a car too, for a few days.”

Her curious glance at his emotionless expression told novels of her shock, yet she obeyed and carried his order out. She was already on the airline’s website in one tab, on another on the car rental company’s.

“I will write the emails about Thursday,” the chairman of the Shimada corp added before opening his mailbox.

. . .

When Hanzo’s airplane landed and he patiently waited for his luggage to roll around on the line, his eyes couldn’t miss the way Noriko fidgeted in her place and shifted her weight from one leg to another. Her business attire was immaculate as always but the airplane ride had managed to get a few breaths of hair loose from her shoulder-length braid.

His personal assistant was restless whenever they came to Finland; knowing that Hanzo would take some personal time off and leave for an entire night without guards or her presence. While she was a capable and collected woman who took good care of Hanzo’s schedule and kept many hounds off his back when the need arose, he understood her concern. Over the years he had noticed how fond she had grown of him and leaving him on his own always caught her off-guard, as if Hanzo would disappear from the surface of the Earth where Noriko couldn't follow to arrange his daily schedule.

Oh, Hanzo was quite sure Genji could give him a good activity or two. If not, there was always the opportunity to embarrass his little brother to his best abilities. That used to be Hanzo’s favourite pastime.

Noriko audibly sighed beside him and checked her smartphone again.

As the company leader spaced out, he came to understand Noriko’s worries. Anything could happen to him. He could end up in a car crash or get lost in a foreign country where he didn’t speak the locals’ language. Now, however, that they had arrived in the spring and she would also spend a few days in Finland without him, Hanzo also imagined that she had little idea of what he truly expected of her in his absence.

With a diminutive sigh that could be mistaken as a simple exhale for a stranger, Hanzo drew Noriko’s attention to himself and the lady’s benevolent eyes found his gaze immediately, even though the chairman of the Shimada corp didn’t mirror the same gentile attention.

For a few moments, neither of them spoke and Hanzo averted his eyes from her expectant gaze to spot his own luggage and pull it off the line. Acknowledgingly Noriko nodded and followed him out of the airport to the awaiting taxi.

Hanzo spoke no other word than a greeting while the driver hauled his luggage into the back of the car and he sat on the backseat of the Volvo, legs crossed and jaw raised high enough to look out on the windows. Noriko sat beside him soon after, tablet and smartphone already in her hands, ready to be used.

“They will be waiting for you at the hotel, as usual,” she informed him, and Hanzo nodded in reply.

“Thank you.”

“I arranged a black Mercedes GLK 350 for you. It’s not one year old.”

Hanzo hummed in contemplation. As always Noriko read his thoughts better than any other assistant before her; she had an image ready about the car type for him to see. The man raised an impressed eyebrow at the ipad’s screen.

“That’s most appreciated, Noriko-san.”

When the driver also settled in his seat and buckled in, their eyes met in the mirror and Hanzo briskly told him the hotel’s name. The Finnish man nodded and began typing on his car’s GPS.

When his eyes turned to Noriko again, she gave him a diminutive, understanding smile, “I thought you’d like it, Shimada-sama.”

“It is a good choice,” he confirmed and accepted the ipad from Noriko’s hold to see the car’s specifications. His eyes found the loose hair which had escaped even further from the otherwise tight and seamless braid on her shoulder. When the car finally moved and they were on the way towards Helsinki’s centre, he shifted so his legs would be in a more comfortable position and read more about the Mercedes he would take.

“Shimada-sama, about your business-phone…”

His eyebrows shot up high on his forehead, a gesture of him letting Noriko know that he was listening without taking his gaze away from the tablet screen.

“I understand I am to keep it disassembled, but how am I to contact you if…”

“I will check my emails every now and then. I just don't want my phone to disturb me, just having it around bothers me.”

“I know. How often will you look at your emails?”

“Depends on what I'll be doing. Morning, lunch time and evenings for certain.”

She nodded and packed her smartphone away in her messenger bag. For a short while they were silent and Hanzo enjoyed the Finnish scenes and architecture passing by. When Noriko sighed once more, he glanced at her again.

“I will be fine, Noriko.”

“I know, sir.”

“Enjoy your days off. If anything happens, you will be the first to know, plus I will have Genji with me.”

“I know, sir. I apologise for my manners, but I think perhaps you might need a few hours sleep before you leave again.”

Nonsense, Hanzo rolled his eyes. He couldn't wait any longer.

“I'm fine. I will sleep when I get there.”

“Sir, you haven't slept for around eighteen hours by now…”

Hanzo’s deadpan was something Noriko had already gotten used to over the years, she was immune to it by now yet the man tried nonetheless. His regal eyebrows were knit in an unimpressed line while his gaze told nothing but questioning boredom.

“I will sleep in my grave, Noriko-san. Now I want to see Genji.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YASSSS what you're thinking, yes, it's happening. Update next Wednesday! Be. Prepared. :D


	20. Brothers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genji has an unexpected visitor and he is ready for the challenge life has given him all of a sudden.

With the weeks going by, winter’s freezingly tight hold began to weaken on the landscape. Although the cold gale still kept sweeping the streets unforgivingly and all the melted snow froze overnight once more, life in the town was slowly stirring again, as if a lazy, dormant creature would stretch its limbs without actually moving.

The park in the town centre was going through quite visible changes, Genji noted. Once the thick layers of ice and snow melted and the soft spring sunshine gradually began to warm the ground, the grass became visible as well after months of stillness. Squirrel sightings began to be a thing again amongst the students, he heard the Southern European students express how in their countries, squirrels were brown and red instead of grey.

His phone rang.

After digging his hands out of his gloves, Genji quickly recovered the device from his pocket and even though his eyes saw the name he accepted the call without a second thought.

The voice on the other side sounded as stern and cryptic as usual, with the well-worn string of demand for an immediate response.

“Where are you?”

The engineer stopped short in his tracks, his feet coming to a halt on the sidewalk as his entire mind went blank for a long, chilling moment. With his own heart anxiously beating his his chest, Genji could only recover to answer the question with a question.

“Why, where are you?”

He could hear the amused yet indignant scoff in the line, as well as a car passing by.

“Have a guess. Should I pick you up?”

Words stuck on his throat for a moment with the day’s schedule running through his mind. He only had some minor business at the bank, nothing more but he could do that some other day, it wasn’t exactly urgent…

“Amm, no, I can be home in ten minutes. I’m… on my way.”

“I’ll be here,” the man on the other side said, brisk and factual as always.

Once the line broke, Genji took a deep breath which felt as refreshing as resurfacing after a dive in water. A hand was already on his forehead as the man involuntarily pinched the bridge of his nose in troubled contemplation. When, how, why?

With another deep breath, the younger Shimada recalled the anchoring thoughts he would always return to in times like this. Zenyatta’s soothing, guiding voice echoed with it’s usual tranquil yet comforting vibe as he reminded Genji with the words the man memorised years ago.

“ _ A closed mind is already defeated. Allow life to give you little hints about change, allow yourself to ponder and wonder, how the change would affect you. Change is an excellent opportunity for improvement, not only for you, but for the people you hold dear as well.” _

Humming in agreement, Genji caught the green light at the crossroad and continued his path home. The timing is most interesting, his mind noted… During the early afternoon, whereas usually he would arrive in the evening or in the night.

And would proceed to leave the next day before the dawn.

With quickening steps, Genji’s strides broke into an easy jog while his eyes remained strictly focused on the slippery sidewalk. Even with the thick layers of ice pebbled up, he saw many people slip and it was due to happen to him as well unless he was careful. Soon enough he passed by another block and turned in the direction of his own street.

“ _ It is not to say change is always required or acknowledged. You can induce change just by staying silent and allowing it to happen on its own. Some say change happens regardless of what we humans do or plan to do. It’s constant, whether we like it or not, so why not take solace in its permanence?” _

He passed by the floral shop which would always have a cloud of wonderful scents around the area in the summer. The owner would pack some pots on the small building’s porch and allow the sun and the bees enjoy the presence of flowers. Those flowers would sell easier, even though they did nothing but sit and bloom happily, grateful for the sun’s warmth and the bees’ cherishing care.

“ _ Some people don’t like change, and that is alright. Some prefer their lives to stay the way it is, and we must learn to respect that, if it does not harm us in return. You know what I’m talking about, Genji, it is never about ones and zeroes. And yet, when you see someone desperate for the slightest sign of an upcoming change, you must not nudge them in any direction. Let them take the first steps. The changes in your life would never happen the same way if another person would experience them. That is why it is so wonderful, that we are never the same. Our differences create and fill up this wonderful world, every day.” _

Oh, Genji was ready to see this finally unfold. Somewhere deep within him, he felt a usually dormant strength stir and grow, his ribcage swelling with newfound energy. Years ago he had mastered the way of harnessing the waves of this energy, filling his limbs with raw confidence which surged along with unparalleled awareness of every possible outcome of this meeting.

Tapping into his intuition, Genji slowed his steps to allow himself a few moments of time to consider his own stance and clear his mind from any and all doubts. By Zenyatta’s side, Genji knew and stood his own ground with a certain purity of mind that came with years of learning, meditating and accepting the ways of his own nature and yet he could not expect his visitor to be shielded and empowered by the same wisdom. The same enlightening experience of conversing for hours, days on end about philosophical questions concerning one’s purpose, the meaning and weight of actions. After all, reflecting on our actions is a powerful teacher when applied in an openly honest manner.

He couldn’t expect his visitor to reflect on his own ways with readied answers. He couldn’t expect him to be ready to reflect in the depths which were already well known for Genji.

As he turned again and finally arrived to his street, he slowed again to send a text to Zenyatta, momentarily breaking the train of thoughts.

When he looked up next and saw the pure black, rented Mercedes GLK in the visitors’ parking slot in front of his own block of flats, Genji couldn’t help the hopeful, happy smile from erupting on his lips. Jogging once more, he waved at the figure dressed in the black pea coat with a deep, ocean blue scarf around his neck.

He didn’t notice the first sign of trouble in time. The joy of seeing his brother again clouded his mind, and simple as that, Genji didn’t expect anything to happen.

As he was approaching closer and saw Hanzo’s small yet so intensely rewarding smile, the young man released a soft laugh as it dawned on him, half a year had passed, and he promised.

Hanzo promised to visit in the spring.

And here he was. Unmoving by the car, yet so alive.

He saw Hanzo leaning onto the car’s side but didn’t pay it any mind. The most important was that Hanzo returned to him.

“It’s so good to see you!” Genji strode past the other cars and held his hand out in a greeting gesture and yet, as concern and suspicion peeked their heads up in his chest, the engineer took another good look at the man in front of him. He saw Hanzo’s discomfort at that, reflecting in his voice as well. Not to mention that even though Hanzo accepted his hand and shook it with a firm hold, Genji couldn’t miss the way he refused to step away from the car’s side.

“Finally. Took you long enough to get here,” the older Shimada stated as his ashen eyes swept across Genji’s looks as well, tremendous exhaustion and a certain stillness radiating from his gaze. The dark shadow underneath his eye raised even more uneasiness in Genji, an anxious feeling urging him to reach out and… “Can we go inside now?”

“Oh. Yes, of course. Sorry to make you wait,” he added and watched his brother slowly, carefully step away from the car and lock it with the hand already pocketed. His moves were measured, well controlled as always but carried an alarming look of slow, almost way too calm air around them. Carefully choosing the words, Genji couldn’t help but ask.

“How are you?”

Another of that scoff from earlier, pretending indignance yet dripping from exhaustion, Hanzo’s deep voice confirmed Genji’s suspicions.

“I’m tired.”

With that, Hanzo fell silent for minutes and while Genji waited for him to explain or reveal more, the older Shimada slowly walked with him up the stairs and patiently waited for him to unlock the door with the air of a distant yet very much observant creature of dignity. Even while drained from overworking himself, driving three hours and waiting extra for Genji to arrive, Hanzo kept his usually straight, regal posture and Genji could only gain more insight of what was truly happening from his brother’s gaze.

Once inside his flat, Genji remembered the awful state he left the kitchen weeks ago and was about to apologise for the mess but as always, Hanzo beat him to that as well. The CEO of the Shimada corp toed his shoes off and that gesture alone had Genji’s eyes growing wide from unabashed shock and alarm, especially when Hanzo forewent the hanger for his coat and simply put it on the hook on the wall.

Genji’s brother, Hanzo Shimada, heir and chief executive officer of the Shimada Corporations did not simply hang his tailored coat up on a simple hook on the wall. Did not simply toe his shoes off either, he was better groomed than to handle such masterpieces of shoemaking like that. If someone, it was Genji who knew that firsthand.

When the man spoke once more, Genji felt an unprecedented wave of nothing less than dread chill his blood and freeze the course of his mind into a halt, clearing everything but deeply wedged worry and love for his brother. This was definitely not how this was supposed to go, he remembered his mind alarming him in the very second. Something was deeply, terribly wrong and Genji felt the readiness of a feline about to jump.

On the other end of the kitchen, one hand already holding onto the kitchen counter for support, Hanzo’s gaze embraced him with a calm, almost serene light and then, as Hanzo took a trembling breath, Genji finally saw it all.

“Genji, I am very tired,” he muttered in a hushed whisper, as if the walls, a bugged phone, anyone could intrude and overhear the unbreakable dragon admit that… “I am too tired.”

“Hanzo,” he began, stepping forth and reaching forward as quickly as he could when the light began to fade, to catch his hands and draw him momentarily back to the present. “Hanzo, come with me. Come with me now.”

He tried not to listen to the trembling, weak breaths, the defeated yet distant sigh carrying the burden of a thousand men. Genji tried to forget the weak, limp hold of his brother holding his hand, letting himself to be lead to the bedroom where he sat on the edge of the bed and didn’t even recognise first that Genji began to undress him. His mind somewhere else in a fatigued haze, Hanzo only caught up with the present when his younger brother was already buttoning his shirt down and only then swatted the engineer’s hand away.

He did have some dignity to save after all.

Quickly Genji darkened the room with the curtains and was back at his brother’s side once more, taking his clothes and folding them on the drawers at the wall across the bed. Since Hanzo had yet to lie down, the younger brother could only suspect that he had something to say, a wish, instruction, request… anything. Upon returning to him, Genji felt worry and the sudden, raw urge of caring swell in his chest with a tide of emotions already welling up in his hazelnut eyes when their gazes met once more. Inwardly he plead, begged the gods not to have him witness the same fate their mother did back then, with their father. The ashen, ghostly look of his brother’s face clenched Genji’s heart in a burning ache of helplessness, unable to do anything else but listen. Listen to all that Hanzo had to say and watch intently, everything that he had become. 

There was no restraint in the pleading in Hanzo’s eyes, demanding this to be true, unbelieving the present playing out in front of his eyes like a distant mirage. Genji knelt right before him and Hanzo managed to make the journey again, his soul parched and driven to the edge of the abyss, one step away from falling. As his cold, weakly searching fingers found Genji’s, the younger Shimada couldn’t hide the way his emotions clogged his breathing for a moment, causing him to swallow with trembling breath.

“Hanzo, you’re here,” he whispered in the air between them, never leaving his brother’s gaze, remaining close as he folded Hanzo’s hand into his own and held the cold fingers between both of his own warm palms. “You’re here with me. Now, go to sleep. We will talk in the morning.”

As Hanzo held onto his hand and kept him still for a moment, Genji could only steel his heart and hold his brother’s hand with the same sentiment when finally, after such a long time apart he recognized a warm, loving smile on Hanzo’s lips. He couldn’t let go. He travelled day and night, refused to sleep, there was nothing that could keep him back from returning. Everything, all the sacrifice he did so he could afford to have this. Such precious breaks, between the gnawing, acidic claws of all of duties and responsibilities eating him away, devouring him whole and leaving nothing but a hollow shell of a once brilliant, ambitious man. 

When he talked again, his voice was barely above a sigh, a breath almost void of life.

“Genji, don’t leave me now. I’m so tired of this. Either you or me, one of us always leaves.”

“No, not this time. I’ll always be here for you, I won’t go anywhere.”

“I can’t,” Hanzo’s mutter and aimless gaze in the empty air left a gaping, open wound on Genji’s already aching heart and yet he couldn’t find a single word, a simple gesture of reassurance which only added to his despair. How could he help? Seeing him unable to form an answer, Hanzo gave the smallest tilt of his head with his voice so deep, raw and breaking from the sheer weight of his words, “I can’t go on like this. It consumes me whole. I’m…”

“You are no longer alone in this, Hanzo. I am here with you.”

“You… are so far away from me, I can never reach--”

“Hanzo, just…” Genji reached up to hold his brother’s jaw in his palm, to steady him momentarily from the nauseating fatigue and everything that plagued him. “Hanzo, sleep for now. You need rest and when you wake up, you won’t be alone. I give my word.”

With the gentlest nudge, as a mother would carefully guide a child he helped Hanzo get comfortable in the bed and heard no objection from the man. The moment Hanzo’s back was finally horizontal and his head hit the pillow, his breathing evened and although a word hadn’t left his lips, Genji felt the wave of relief finally washing through the thoroughly exhausted man. As his eyes closed, Genji released a sigh and while the fright of Hanzo being in such a state still hadn’t ceased coiling his chest, he realized that for the time being he couldn’t help more. His voice intentionally low, almost too quiet, Genji walked to the bedroom’s door.

“Sleep as long as you like. I won’t wake you. I’ll be in the office room, if you need me.”

With a final glance he saw Hanzo’s brows in a weak frown before evening out once more. And he was asleep.

As quietly as he could, Genji shut the door and took a deep, steadying breath to anchor himself to the present. Hands on his waist, the engineer sighed again and bit into his lips, his eyes void of warmth and reflecting only the angered storm within.

How did this happen? How did it come to this? Who was responsible? Did they not have eyes?

His own brother in such a state… this could not continue any longer. Dead to the clan or not, Genji needed to take action with no delay. His brother’s life was at stake.

With his affection for Hanzo so vehemently ablaze, Genji walked to the entrance and plucked Hanzo’s phone out of the coat’s pocket, grabbed his keys and decided to walk downstairs for a moment. Just a moment. He didn’t need more.

. . .

“Hello, Noriko-san? Is it you?”

The startled gasp of the lady from the other side of the line did not surprise Genji one bit. Even through the scorching anger in his heart the man wore a frown and raw confidence with unquestionable power like a suit, his voice once more carrying the weight and finality of a Shimada.

As he hoped, Noriko-san answered the call, Hanzo’s personal assistant. The most talented and precise one so far, according to Hanzo. A high praise, undoubtedly.

“G-Genji-sama?” And it seemed she was ready to address him back even though the council announced Genji dead to the clan a decade ago. Her acknowledgement of his existence and willingness to talk was definitely a positive note and even in his upset state of mind Genji appreciated her open-mindedness.

“Hanzo will stay for the entire weekend and beyond that, as long as he needs to. Take care of that, please.”

“G-Genji-sama, did something happen? Why do you have his personal phone?”

“Don’t question, Noriko-san, for his sake. Just this one time. I can’t give you answers just yet. He is safe with me. I’ll not leave him alone.”

He could hear her sigh tremble before she took a steadying breath.

“Yes, Genji-sama I know that. I… I fear for what happened, I can only hope… “her voice broke from the intense worry and sympathetically, knowing that at least someone had some concern for Hanzo’s wellbeing, Genji patiently listened to everything she had to say. “I told him he should’ve slept before driving but he wouldn’t hear it! He couldn’t wait any longer. Please tell me is he alright?”

“He is for now. We will see when he wakes up.”

“Please keep me updated, Genji-sama. I will do everything in my power to keep him undisturbed and I will keep his business phone disassembled. Please, take care of him.”

“I will. Thank you Noriko-san. You are doing us a huge favour, and I am grateful to you.”

She acknowledged his gratefulness in a most polite fashion which somewhat calmed Genji in return. However she was not done yet, and her voice carried a well-measured carefulness.

“Genji-sama, I do not wish to trouble you.”

That had the man frowning once more in alarmed concern and suspicion.

“Please, tell me.”

“I worry about him, just like your esteemed mother worries. Thank you for helping him. He’s been doing slightly better until last month. Thank you for helping, Genji-sama.”

For a second Genji needed to harden the already tattered strings of his heart at the mention of their mother. She worried, of course she did… and yet, as much as his mind and heart craved to reminisce the warmth and loving he could recall from the memories of his mother, Genji needed to be in the present.

“I… Noriko-san, I should be thanking you for watching out for him when I’m not there. Thank you for your hard work and I apologise for giving you a difficult time.”

“I--of course, Genji-sama. I’m trying to, as best I can. As much as he lets me.”

“I will hang up now and do the necessary steps. I ask for your patience for the time being.”

“Of course, I will wait. I am here in Helsinki and per request I can also travel there.”

“Stay there until further notice. I will call you tomorrow.”

“Yes, Genji-sama. I understand.”

“Alright. I’m leaving now.”

As he hung up right after Noriko’s turn of goodbye, Genji placed the phone in his own pocket and made a mental list of all the things he had to do. Hanzo needed rest, needed to unwind and forget work and he only had a weekend. Not to mention that it was only a Thursday and he had class on Friday.

Genji needed reinforcements and he had just the right people in mind. Hanzo was in dire need of immediate help and as Genji’s eyes snapped to his other pocket with his own phone lying in it, he felt another wave of unbreakable confidence. He had his path laid out for him once more, the plan solidifying second by second. Hanzo needed him, and Genji was more than ready to answer the call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for staying here and still reading, goodness. This might have been a short chapter but the next is going to be a longer one again so I hope you won't abandon ship now. We're getting ready for the final arcs. I'm trying to work efficiently and keep the updates regular from now on. Thank you, each and every one of you who's still reading, thank you so much for staying with me and enjoying the story. This is probably the longest story I have ever written and oh boy we still have quite the journey left. Thank you. Thank you <3 You're inspiring and very kind. "Never forget to stay positive, and have a great day." :) (- Skyline)


	21. Side to Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo wakes up in Finland. It is unusually quiet. He decides to find Genji and ends up making new friends. In his own ways, of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LONG chapter ahead. Warnings: Academics.

As darkness gradually lifted around him, the first thing Hanzo became aware of was the sluggish hunger in his stomach. Even through his closed eyelids his mind registered sunlight seeping into the room and while he wished for nothing more than sleep, his mind jolted awake with a whole list of duties for the day.

Check stock… check reports from the analysts… check in with shareholders from home… check Noriko’s priority email list… 

As if on cue, a wave of fatigue overran his thoughts with a dulling, almost numbing vehemence. He could not. He could barely keep his eyes halfway open, much less move a limb to sit up. 

Even so, his body’s needs persistently nudged him to move, change posture and slowly, one move after another, push himself up into a sitting position even though it took significantly more time than normally. Once that was done and Hanzo wiped the edges of his eyes to gain more visual focus, he proceeded by wiping the stray locks of hair out of his face, back behind his shoulder. He should get a haircut. His hair was growing too long, it reached his shoulderblades already. 

In the silent stillness around him in the room, Hanzo let his gaze wander and examine the way Genji furnished his bedroom and made it into a cozy, welcoming nest for relaxation. The shutters were down with the curtains in and yet there was enough light for Hanzo to navigate and he wondered how Genji accomplished all this without any financial help from the family. After he’d become an outcast, they broke all ties for almost eight years and Genji was left alone to deal with his own life.

As a stray, involuntary hum of agreement vibrated in his throat, Hanzo’s eyes went to the wardrobe in the corner then to the drawer in front of the bed. Genji had all sorts of trinkets and books on top of it and as Hanzo squinted and tilted his head to read the titles, he was surprised but also pleased to find poetry instead of science. In fact, that prompted him to gather his strength and climb to the edge of the bed and place his feet on the floor.

Oh. Hanzo’s eyes widened in genuine surprise once more as he found a pair of slippers and in a neatly folded pile, a pair of sweatpants with dark blue shirt, a white undershirt, socks and underwear. On top of the pile of clothes was also a folded piece of paper, most likely a note from Genji. With a curious tilt of his head he reached down and picked the bundle of socks and proceeded to put them on his feet and allowed an almost foreign sensation of calmness drip into his mind. Genji left him a note.

The memory of how Genji used to draw everywhere in their ancestral home, especially on the paper walls until he learned to use only the sketchbooks lingered in his mind for a few moments and Hanzo wondered if Genji drew something for him in the note. He wished that he did. 

Once he was done dressing, he picked the piece of paper from the floor and folded it out to read it. Genji’s handwriting had gone through a change as well, he noted, much less sloppy and more stocky, collected and while the paper did not have pre-made patterns of cubes or stripes on it, Genji’s lines were even and his kanjis immaculate. 

“ _ Hanzo, I needed to go teaching. My classes are from 10-12, then 14-16, 16-18. You will find a good, trusted friend to keep you company in the meantime, he is in the kitchen when I’m writing this. You will find some noodles and red miso in the kitchen cupboard and chocolate in the fridge (don’t ask my friend why, I will tell you personally) and Jesse will take care of lunch and dinner. I’ve known him for around seven years by now, you can ask for his assistance in anything you require. I apologize for not being there, please make yourself feel at home but don’t touch the robots.” _ Hanzo rolled his eyes at Genji’s priorities. “ _ Tea is in the drawers on the right side of the oven, second shelf.” _

With a reflexive wipe at his nose and another fixing of his hair, Hanzo folded the paper and contemplated on the words it contained. Genji will be away almost the whole day and there was a stranger in the kitchen. A stranger who probably knew what happened yesterday, otherwise Genji wouldn’t have asked for his presence. Now that made the CEO of the Shimada corp have a slight frown, his mind still sluggish but critical nonetheless.

He did not remember the last moments of his time here yesterday. He recalled walking up the stairs, standing in the kitchen without slippers and then here in Genji’s room, sitting on the edge of the bed… his eyes went back to the spot where Genji knelt in front of him and for a sharp moment he saw the younger man’s fright, the intense worry in his eyes. 

When a slightly nauseous wave hindered his mind, Hanzo took a steadying breath and read the paper once more. There was little food in the house, yet Genji made note of the chocolate in the fridge and specifically asked not to inquire his friend about them. This friend knew Genji for a long time and most certainly was a close friend. 

Now that was something to consider. Seven years ago, after Genji had already became an outcast, he met this person called Jesse. The same person who owned a dog according to Hanzo’s secret facebook research.

Yet, Hanzo’s eyes hardened with a frown and he checked for his hair band around the pillow to pull his hair up in a bun at the name of his neck. This stranger, just because he was a friend of Genji, was not allowed to witness Hanzo in any such a weak state that he currently was. The humiliation and ruin of his reputation was something he could not afford, not even these times when fatigue plagued every thought and move of his. Hanzo stood and winced at the hunger still quite present in his stomach. He needed something to eat and a miso soup with noodles sounded just great. 

In front of the closed bedroom door he fixed the dark blue shirt once more, checked the bun on the nape of his neck and straightened his shoulders. He was a Shimada. He had reputation to uphold.

As he stepped outside, the first thing he spotted was a curious German shepherd looking back at him with the same surprise, except the dog was lying on the floor beside the dining table and tilted its head to the right in question, “ _ and you are..?”  _

Taken off-guard and momentarily in surprise, Hanzo couldn’t tear his eyes away from the animal, its shiny, thick fur and big paws, the intelligent and genuinely curious light in its eyes. That went on until a voice cut through his reverie and a man called for his attention.

“Good morning Mr. Shimada,” the friend of Genji, a man quite taller than Hanzo sat at the dining table and seemed to be playing solitaire with a deck of cards, and involuntarily Hanzo’s ribcage tightened in resentment at the title he was being addressed. An almost bitter disappointment scoffed within him, resenting the formal greeting and the decorum it demanded from him. 

“And same to you,” he replied, glancing down at the dog once more who began panting with its tongue out. At least the animal did not demand him to hold up appearances. With a few strides he walked to the cabinet Genji mentioned in his letter and found the tea boxes right away. He felt the man’s gaze on his back and yet, probably from the almost numbing fatigue still clouding his mind and judgement, Hanzo felt no compulsion to continue the conversation.

Much to his surprise however, the man stood and with a small cough to clear his throat, drew his attention back once more. As Hanzo turned to face him with the same exhausted frown that was sitting on his features a few minutes ago, he finally had a chance to see the face of Jesse McCree in person. His beard looked just as unkempt as on the facebook picture and yet the choice of red plaid button-up shirt with its sleeves rolled up to his elbows was undoubtedly a good choice to bring out the tanned shade of his skin, the warm glint of his brown eyes and the dark, chestnut hair kept in the same style bun like Hanzo’s. 

As his intense gaze took in all that was Jesse McCree in front of him, he felt the man do the exact same examination on his features in the matter of seconds. Polite and subtle, the stranger’s eyes quickly softened and with a friendly, tentative smile on his features, Jesse offered a hand between them and Hanzo accepted the handshake with a moderately firm hold. 

“Name’s McCree,” the man said with a pleasant American rasp in his voice and right after he stepped to the side to gesture at his dog invitingly. The animal’s ears peaked up in curiosity in an instant, apparently it was waiting for this gesture to come close. With friendly tail-wagging it stood quickly and was already sniffing Hanzo’s hand. “Jesse for friends. This is my colleague, Tuco. Let him sniff you, then you can pet him if you want.”

A police dog, that is most impressive, Hanzo thought with his eyebrows rising in tandem. As his eyes returned up to Jesse’s, he gave a nod in reply. “Hanzo.”

“Nice to finally meet you, Hanzo. Genji’s been waiting real' bad for you to arrive.”

_ Is that so? _ Hanzo wondered and for a few moments couldn’t form an answer from the simple yet so strange, almost foreign experience of his heart warming up with love for Genji. Did he… wait for him? 

“I understand you were to come only in June though. I’m glad you could make it earlier,” Jesse added. 

Hanzo’s attention returned to the present and his expression must have betrayed that, since with an appreciative smile Jesse nodded at the table with the cards. “Care to join for a game?”

Seeing no harm in that, Hanzo nodded and turned back to the cabinet once more while Jesse returned to the chair. “Let me prepare tea and breakfast first.”

“Sure thing. I’ll shuffle the cards. What do you want to play?”

For a moment he hesitated and ended up lingering with his hand aimlessly caressing the tea boxes for an unintentionally long time. Playing card games with a stranger who… did not feel like a stranger, all of a sudden. The casual yet pleasant conversation eased a deeply buried tight knot in Hanzo’s rib cage, the way warm water would first swell the parched piece of yarn before helping it slip. 

“I… I don’t know,” he ended up answering, finally deciding on jasmine tea.

“Well, which ones can you play? Canasta, poker… oh, I have a set of poker from home. I could bring it over later,” hummed the man and while Hanzo wondered why would he share that information, he also had to pay attention to filling the kettle and turning it on. 

Sleep deprivation did not simply dissolve after a good night sleep after all. His mind was still dizzy at times, seconds seemed to fall out of his memory and he felt his own body, his moves more sluggish and clumsy than usual. 

“From home?” he echoed, and turned his head just to see Jesse nod. 

“Santa Fe.”

Frowning for a moment in contemplation, Hanzo recalled that the town was in Southern USA, and that piqued his curiosity. While the water boiled he turned around with his whole body and sized the man up and down again, the red plaid with the jeans, white socks, police dog lying at his feet… and wondered.

“How does one end up in Finland, all the way from Santa Fe?”

Jesse hummed and nodded his acknowledgement, “that is a good question, Hanzo. Similar reasons why one would decide to leave all the rot and corruption behind and turn a new leaf, if you catch my meaning. Mine isn’t exactly the… fairy tale you’d wanna hear during the few free days you have.”

“Do I look like the fairy tale type of guy to you?”

With a coy smirk on his lips, the American clicked his tongue. “Got me there. You sure don’t, still this isn’t something we just come up and share after a few minutes of getting acquainted. Gotta butter me up first, to talk about my past. ‘M sure you also have stuff you’d rather put way in the back not to be reminded about.”

Unseen by the American, Hanzo’s eyebrows were high in both slight amazement and open curiosity. It did not happen often that he, Hanzo Shimada, asked for information to be disclosed as was denied. And yet, the way Jesse worded his reply suggested a certain familiarity Hanzo could sympathize with. By the time the kettle was done, Hanzo mirrored the half-smile on Jesse’s features and proceeded to brew his tea and also fill a bowl of noodles with red miso with the boiling water. 

“Let me teach you a game instead,” the businessman offered once he turned back and was pleased to see Jesse wave with an inviting gesture at the deck on top of the table. “It’s called Two-Ten-Jack.”

“Okay, never heard of it,” Jesse admitted with a reflexive hand reaching down to knead at Tuco’s scalp and Hanzo couldn’t miss the pleased toothy smile the canine rewarded his owner with. The American patiently waited for him to take a seat and shuffle the cards once more even though his sharp, captivating mud brown eyes never released Hanzo’s own cutting, measured yet just as analytic gaze. “You’re gonna have to start at the beginning.”

With a deeply resonating hum in his chest, Hanzo allowed the smallest smile of appreciation appear in the corner of his lips. This man was certainly much more interesting than the cover would suggest.

“Isn’t that what we always do?”

. . .

As Zenyatta entered the office, Genji was on his feet in an instant and welcomed the other researcher with an involuntary, reflexive opening of his arms, an invitation Zenyatta seemed perplexed by only for the split of the second before continuing his swift strides and walking into Genji’s embrace. All the worry, the fear of something happening to his brother kept eating Genji’s nerves and prevented him from taking any food to himself other than the smallest bites, so Zenyatta went ahead and brought him croissant from the campus restaurant with a box of chocolate from home.

As a shudder ran down Genji’s spine, Zenyatta tightened his hold around his back and began slowly caressing him up and down around his shoulders and the space between.

“Thank you, Zenyatta,” the engineer sighed. “Thank you for coming here so fast.”

“Of course I did. Now, calm yourself with a deep breath and focus on the present. He is not alone and neither are you.”

“I know, I still worry. We don’t have much time, by the way. Satya or Hana might arrive back in any moment.”

Oh. That drew a faint color on Zenyatta’s cheeks and yet refused to pull away. “I see.”

Nevertheless, Genji continued to hold him too as he spoke. “I’ll stay with Hanzo tonight as well. I actually have no idea when he intends to go back, the later the better.”

“Alright. The moment you call, I’ll be on my way.”

With a burdened sigh Genji raised a questioning eyebrow at his own thoughts, “I have no idea when he would be ready to meet you. I don’t want… ah. We.. I mean, he needs time. And you need time to prepare as well.”

“Oh, Genji,” Zenyatta leaned away to finally look in the troubled yet brightly shining hazelnut eyes and almost got lost in their strangely warm, embracing light. “If our fate dictates that we meet, let it be so. I am ready.”

As tension seemed to lift from his shoulders, Genji withdrew his hands as well and nodded with a gentle, knowing smile. “I am grateful to you, again.”

“Have some food, you haven’t eaten anything yet.”

“Yes, I will… I’m gonna have the Intro to Mechantronics class write a test in the beginning of the lecture so I can also eat then,” he added while gathering the folders full of empty tests, his engineering calculator and ruler and then his backpack with the rest of his personal equipment. 

“As you wish, Genji. If you would, however…” From the sidelines Zenyatta watched him through the process of packing and once he spoke, Genji’s attention was back on him once more. “A word of advice.”

As their eyes locked and Genji’s gaze met the hardened and more serious look Zenyatta gave him, the engineer took a moment to settle his own thoughts and be open to whatever his friend had to tell him. Whether he liked it or not in certain cases, Zenyatta had an incredibly sensitive and precise sense of intuition and while Genji was still learning his ways and methods through meditation and in-depth talks about philosophy. Zenyatta also possessed a greater understanding of human nature than he did. 

“Tell me. I’ll listen.”

Zenyatta’s eyes were cast at the ground for a moment before he would look back in Genji’s searching, expectant eyes. 

“Ultimately, the choice is his to make. He must make the decision, to forgive himself and while that would be such a huge step forward that I am unsure if he is ready to make it, he must also take action. However, I would advise against persuading him into the latter. Let him think and discover his own nature by himself and if you would mostly listen only and let him do the discovery by himself, that alone would be a positive and hopeful change for him. Greater gifts than forgiveness and chances to start over are very rare, after all.”

“Everything by his pace, then,” Genji interpreted and Zenyatta nodded.

“Exactly. The human mind is a very delicate, fragile construction made up from beliefs and one’s experience and Hanzo’s mind is filled with bitterness and anger, most of these directed at himself. His fatigue intensifies them all to the level where his mind is so loud, it blurs the outside world and that is why he finds it difficult to focus. Allow him to calm, to breath and only then… when all is still, all is quiet… only then.” 

It dawned on the younger Shimada as well. Finally, he saw the right path and the grand possibility, a chance for him to help Hanzo regain a foothold on this reality, this life and…

“I will see to all of this. You’ll not be disappointed, Zenyatta.”

As if a drop of sunshine would show itself on such a cold, cloudy day, Zenyatta smiled with the warmth of the sun and immediately Genji felt the rejuvenating wave of reassurance course through him.

“Come on, when would I ever be disappointed in you, Genji? You’re wonderful.”

All will be well. He will follow Zenyatta’s teaching and together they will save Hanzo from himself. Genji was positive and determined. 

. . .

When the second lecture began in the afternoon, Genji was glad to see so many students show up for the lecture even if it was probably their last lecture on a Friday. He never kept catalog of the people present, after all he considered the students to be mature enough to manage their own timetables and responsibilities. If one could pass his (merciless, in-depth) tests without attending the lectures where he actually explained everything and answered any and all questions concerning the material, it was their choice to skip. This was the fourth time he held the Introduction to Mechatronics 2 course and similarly to the previous years, in the beginning of the semester most students showed up but as the weeks flew by, attendance would begin to thin. 

As he mentally counted the students present and the papers he held in the folders, Genji pursed his lips and held onto his wrist behind his back. With the presentation behind him on the wall and all equipment at the ready, he only needed the students to settle and prepare their laptops for the beginning of the lecture too.

Once that was done, and he saw many of them pointedly glance at the clock,  _ just begin already! When will we start? _ Genji let an amused smile appear on his lips which was contagious and stuck on the students as well. They’re gonna have a great time with mechatronics, that was for sure.

“Alright, welcome everyone, how’s it going?” He began, and saw his audience nod in various manners, some cynically or genuinely, some tilted their heads in a ‘not so good’ manner but ultimately, their attention was on him and they smiled. That’s what mattered. “Did you remember to check out the latest article from International Journal of Robotics Research?”

“Ah, teach, yours was there!” A student from the front rows told him loudly, with mocking accusation. 

“I’m guilty of advertising myself, I admit.” That resulted in a wave of pleasant laugh from his audience. “But more importantly, did you notice anything interesting about it? How about the section about the loop system? What kind of a system was that?”

Oh, now that was a high note for students only in their first year in mechatronics engineering. They knew the basics of course, having just completed Intro to Mechatronics 1, and Genji knew that, still this was a great way to test the waters.

“That’s no fair, Mr. Shimada, you’re smiling! You know the answer!”

“Of course I do, it’s  _ my _ article!” Now he was laughing with the students for a few moments as well. “You learned about those systems last semester, and will learn more about them in the future.”

“Genji, do you mean if it was closed or open loop system?” Asked a girl from the back rows.

“Yes, I mean that too. That’s a good place to start.”

“It was closed.”

“Yes, good job! What else did you notice about it?”

“The thing looked like a joint.” That comment almost managed to hurt Genji’s ego.  _ The thing. _ They called his precious technology… a thing.

“Yes, it is a joint of a robot,” he corrected with a nod and also noticed several students now focusing on their laptops instead, some checking others’ so he decided to alt-tab from his own presentation for the day and make their jobs easier. “Alright, I’ll open a 3D model about it so you can see how it looks in the program you’re learning to use with Satya. I used that, yes.”

He turned the other projector on as well so he had two screens on the wall behind him, one featuring the original model, the second the colorblind version for the few students who needed that. 

“Everyone can see and read it?” When he saw them nod in unison, he nodded as well. “Good. Now let’s see, what else can you spot there by yourselves before we proceed to the test?”

“Nothing, teach, we are blind. We can’t write.”

“Oh, that’s unfortunate,” he chuckled and placed a sympathetic palm on his chest, “I shall prepare a colorbook type of test for you then, color and connect the right parts like in kindergarden.”

Although Genji was joking, the utterly amazed, sparking eyes of his students caused him to reconsider that idle thought. “Wait, you’d like that?” He asked. 

“Genji, that’s a genius idea!”

“Please, please Genji!”

“Make it, please, Genji!”

The more he thought about it… the more he liked it as well. “Yeah. Alright. Next week, coloring test!”

"It will still count!" He reminded them, not that they heard him.

The class cheered in happiness, as if Genji just announced that Christmas came early that year. With a gentle laugh and shake of his head at the great joy he just caused these students, Genji cleared his throat and asked them to return their attention to the slides.

. . .

It was one of those lectures when he got into deep conversations about mechatronics and the future of research ethics. Where did the researcher’s human limitations end, where could one consider an AI to be a thinking, self-aware system with its own personality? How did Genji think about the owner of the ankle construction? Who was the true owner, him or Bastion? If he took it away from Bastion, the poor soul would be without an ankle.

The students did not like that idea one bit. They were convinced that if Bastion could form self-aware thoughts and learn human behaviour patterns and eventually recognize how society works, then Bastion was considered to be human. Much to Genji’s surprise, it was the high scoring core in the group who remained sceptical and drew the majority of the students’ attention back to the potential errors or failures of AI programming, no matter how much of a genius the programmer would be. Intently listening to their conversations, Genji successfully managed to step out of the discussion entirely and watch them discuss academic ethics according to their attitudes, experience and career objectives. 

As the conversation went on for several minutes and the students began arguing about human rights extended to AI it was then when he felt the need to intervene. As an academic researcher himself, he needed to follow universal ethical guides and do all research according to those rules, no one was free from them.

“How many of you took the Research Methods in Psychology course?” He spoke up and unfortunately, only a few students hands went up in the air, most of them looked at him in a rather openly questioning manner. With a deep breath, Genji inwardly acknowledged the fact that this is going to take longer than he first expected. “Alright. Get ready to write because I’ll need you to remember everything I say, make sure you write it down as precisely as you can.”

Immediately, the classroom was filled with the murmur  and noise of students taking their laptops into their laps or opening their tablets, notebooks and soon their focus was on him once more. As he patiently waited for all of them to finish preparing, Genji’s eyes met with most students’ eyes and was pleased to see great curiosity and openness in them.

Now, how could he summarize this well enough for them to see the significance? If some of them would later embark on a great mission to work with human research subjects, they had to be familiar with the rules as soon and as thoroughly as possible. For a moment spent in silence save for the growing confidence in his heart, Genji wondered how Zenyatta would introduce such a complex idea and system of rules to bright and young, curious and open minds like these. 

And just like any good educator out there, Zenyatta would advise him to be patient and maintain an open mindset for any and all questions that might arise. Patience and kindness, accepting change and providing freedom to grow. Everyone began at the smallest steps before gathering the courage and ability to jump. 

Where did Zenyatta’s wisdom truly end?

“So, as researchers it is in our hands what we do with the technology we discover or develop,” Genji began, well aware of the overall way too general introduction. “Since you are still in the beginning stages of your studies, perhaps it is better if we go through the basic research ethics and rules that bind us, but also enable us to bring out the best what humanity and technology has to offer. I am soon going to hold a presentation in Cambridge about a similar topic, and I suggest you all should watch at least a part of that presentation. My colleague from the University of Zürich, Dr. Ziegler is a brilliant scientist who already has had groundbreaking discoveries in biomedical engineering and human neurobiology. You might want to ask, how does that relate to mechatronics in the first place? We are working with computer systems, robots…”

The lecture hall’s door opened and naturally everyone whipped their heads at the rather unusual timing for someone to be late, approximately half an hour way into the lecture. Many students frowned, resenting the interruption but soon their faces reflected nothing less but surprise and amazement from the scene right in front of them. Genji later remembered standing in astonishment and awe which blanketed his entire mind in whiteness for a good couple of moments. 

And yet, here he was, stunned into silence, standing with his fingers going weak and all thoughts vanishing from his mind. His heart leaped into his throat in an instant and no matter how he tried, Genji couldn’t swallow the lump sitting in there.

Wearing his immaculate business attire, a midnight blue tailored three-piece suit with a white button up, it was Hanzo who held the lecture hall’s door open. When he spoke, Genji was once more dumbstruck by the gentleness in his brother’s voice. 

“May I come in?”

Voice still stuck on his throat, Genji couldn’t help but smile and nod briefly even though his voice came out a bit coarser than he intended, “of course, everyone is welcome.”

His fingers began to tremble and he had to put the projector’s remote control on the table so he wouldn’t drop it. He couldn’t believe it, with a weak breath he glanced up again and followed Hanzo’s steps with his gaze, as his brother walked over to the rows of seats and sat down in the first row, dismissing the presence of all students. 

Hanzo was here. On his lecture. After a decade, ten years of waiting and he finally--

With his heart anxiously hammering in his ribcage, Genji nodded at the students and when he saw their eager, curious gazes focusing on him and his brother, the engineer couldn't help but let a nervous sigh escape his lips. He could handle this. He could carry on, he was a professional robotics engineer, lecturer and PhD student at a prestigious university and yet the nigh impossible came true and after a decade, his brother was present to finally see and experience the passion Genji held for science and technology. It thrilled Genji to no end, what more could he wish for?

“As I said,” he began, and while his heart carried on hammering in his throat with such fierce impacts that he had to take a deep breath just to press the sensation down, he also used that moment to collect his thoughts once more and took the remote control back into his fingers.

With Hanzo’s attention and intensely watching gaze on him, the younger Shimada embraced the crushing self-consciousness in the pit of his stomach and turned it around to forge an incredible amount of confidence from it. Hanzo was here, to finally see him teach. This is what Genji wanted, what he always wished for and he had it right here, in that very moment… he would not waste the opportunity. 

“When we talk about research ethics, it doesn’t only mean cases when we work with human participants but it entails everything we do with the power academics granted us with. In general, research ethics in mechatronic engineering includes three things.” He held a hand up while holding his other hand with the remote control behind his back. “One, to protect the rights of all research participants and respect their personal interests and limitations. Two, the research conducted needs to serve the interests and needs of our society, and three, take all steps and conditions of our research into consideration and take inventory of the following...” 

He paused and raised an expectant eyebrow at the students, who began writing the moment he spoke once more, “management of risk, protection of confidentiality, and the thorough process of consent from all participants. All participants in all cases must be familiar with the resources we use, for what purpose, and what are the possible outcomes. All outcomes. Our objective for the future is not simply self indulgent robot building, we do all this to create machines that will help human society’s advancement in technology, to make our future a more consistently low cost yet self-sufficient existence. Medical fields are much more strict about the terms of consent, understandably.”

Purposefully he avoided meeting Hanzo’s gaze yet from his peripheral sight he saw his brother raising his elbows on the table and intertwine his fingers in front of his lips. He had his attention.

“Now, most of you would think we would refrain from including human participants in our field of studies but that highly depends on what you want to do in the future. Since mechatronics is a highly interdisciplinary... “ he frowned for a quick moment to correct his term,” or as some might say, multidisciplinary field…our service to both academia and ultimately, society can direct us to multiple other fields. What fields use our technology in their daily life?”

The question surprised the group but they quickly regained their composure. 

“Medical fields,” he heard a voice tell him, and he held up a finger signifying number one. “Smart consumer products,” another student told him, and he held a second finger up. “Jet engines…” Third. The more the better. “Robotics…”

. . .

“Those of you interested in robotics will mostly be taught by Satya, Mr. Torbjörn and me while those interested in industrial automaton will be taught by Mr. Reyes, Mr. Morrison and Ms. Song. I also teach control engineering but next semester, Ms. Song will hold that course too and I will take more courses in robotics engineering because both the embedded systems specialization and automotive electronics will be taken over by Mr. Winston from Cambridge and Mr. Morrison. Don’t forget that with a good research proposal, you can conduct a joint project with other departments, like Ms. Song does with the musical therapy researchers and Mr. Morrison has continuous projects with the sports science department. It all depends on your ideas.” 

As the students scribbled the information down, Genji waited for a few other moments to consider what more to share. Hanzo looked at his wristwatch again then back at Genji as the engineer continued.

“Of course if you have more questions, contact me and we can discuss them in my office hours. I’m glad we discussed ethics and specialization routes today. We will continue with the normal schedule next week, make sure you read the assigned articles. Next time I won’t have mercy on you, and the test we talked about is indeed going to happen.”

When a collective “aww” echoed in the classroom, Genji smiled and shook his head in mock disapproval, “and this is only a small one, to test the waters, what will you do on the big one?”

“Die,” he heard a guy answer in a semi-loud deadpan and the whole group had a wave of laughter right after, not even Hanzo was immune to a humble smile at that. 

In truth, Hanzo expected the students to leave right after the lecture would be over. They took their sweet time packing and chatting, slowly making their way out of the lecture hall but a good handful of them remained to talk with Genji about the lecture topics. The only thing he could do was patiently wait for all of them to leave, and since it had been quite a long day for Genji already, he did seem a bit tired once all questions were answered and his students would finally depart from the lecture hall.

As the last curious future-engineer left the scene, Genji visibly released a relieved sigh and finally looked at him, since Hanzo was still sitting at the same place with a small, pleased smile curling in one corner of his lips. 

For several moments neither of them spoke, Genji turned the projectors off, took his memory stick and collected all equipment he brought along while Hanzo allowed his thoughts and impressions to settle.

With his hands calmly settled on the desk, Hanzo couldn’t help but revisit the bitter times of their parting to reflect upon and inwardly admit the thoroughly hypocritical claims he threw at Genji, back then. Of course, a decade is a terribly long time for someone to miss their only sibling, and having witnessed the immense talent and professional experience Genji now expertly commanded, Hanzo’s fingers curled into a fist to hide the crushing weight of guilt underneath. 

When a pleased and thoroughly tired Genji appeared in his vision, Hanzo couldn’t help but avert his gaze from him for a moment and stand with an openly held palm between them. Once their gazes met again, Genji had a small yet smug smile on his lips and without hesitation he accepted his brother’s firm hand in greeting gesture. 

“Thank you for dropping in.”

“It was my pleasure,” Hanzo nodded, and Genji couldn’t miss the proud glint in his brother’s eyes.

“Ready to go home, or do you wanna eat dinner in town?” Genji had to pinch the bridge of his nose to collect his attention back to the present after the intense concentration the lecture required. “Did Jesse cook anything?”

After holding three lectures that day, one about Carbon-nano-tube creation in the morning, the second about mechatronic system design and now this with the first year students, he most definitely did not have the fresh quickness of mind that he usually did and yet… he couldn’t miss the way Hanzo instantly averted his eyes from his and placed both hands in his suit’s pockets with a quite cough. 

“He didn’t have the time or opportunity to do so,” his brother added, quite diplomatically.

“How come? What did you guys do?”

“He took me around the town, sight-seeing and lunch.”

Since Hanzo still refused to meet his gaze, Genji took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose once more. “Alright… what did you do?”

Much to his surprise however, Hanzo’s eyes widened in indignance, “me? Nothing. It was all his idea.”

“Why do I have trouble believing this?”

“You better do.”

“Did you touch the robots?”

Hanzo scoffed and started to walk away from the rows of seats towards the lecture hall’s door.

“I most definitely did not. Your obsessed fascination with them is enough warning to keep my distance.”

Genji’s mouth opened in shock, “hey. What is that supposed to mean?”

When Hanzo stopped just to look back at him with a rather smug, cheeky glance, Genji also halted and was already grinning at the challenge.

“So, you mentioned dinner in the town. Take me someplace you like, but not the exquisite burger restaurant in the centre.”

Hearing those words leave his brother’s mouth, Genji had to wonder for a few seconds and make a mental note to ask Jesse, what had he done with Hanzo? Who was this man, calling a burger restaurant exquisite? Genji was rendered speechless by this man who wore Hanzo’s suit, looked like him, sounded like him and yet there was a significant change of attitudes Genji couldn’t explain just by Jesse’s casually easy-going company. The two words, exquisite and burger would never leave his brother’s lips in one sentence, under normal circumstances.

“Hanzo, what did you do? You better tell me, what have you done?”

Calm and measured as ever, Hanzo began walking once more and exited the hall with Genji following behind him, intently watching every little hint of change on Hanzo’s face. No matter how hard he looked however, he could only see a gentle, knowing smile on his brother’s face paired up with a well-controlled glint of amusement in his eyes.

“I did nothing,” the older Shimada repeated with a dismissive, casual wave of his hand. “The credit is Jesse’s.”

Why did Genji have trouble believing that?

“Stop it, Hanzo, you’re not funny!”

“Oh, but I am.”

With his eyes narrowed in great suspicion, Genji decided to momentarily follow his brother and go with the flow. The mysterious manner of speech and Hanzo avoiding to answer his repeated questions only meant one thing, and one thing only. They were up to something… up to no good.

“Where is Jesse now?” Genji asked, hoping that Hanzo’s answer would drop a hint for him.

“He dropped me off here then went home to sleep before his night shift starts,” Hanzo informed him and much to Genji’s horror, even raised a curious eyebrow. “I assure you, he won’t tell you anything either.”

Calling it a terrific defeat, Genji raised his hands in surrender, “alright, I get it… I don’t even want to know, if you don’t want to talk about this so badly.”

“Well, there is nothing to talk about.”

And yet he kept smirking like that… and for once in his life, Genji was certain that his immaculately groomed brother and the local ex-Interpol agent were up to no good.

“You’re messing with me, stop it!” he caught up to Hanzo, chuckling from the joy. “Goodness gracious, you’re actually messing with me?”

Much to his surprise, even causing him to stop on the corridor again, Hanzo glanced at him with a small smirk lurking in the corner of his mouth and made a small wave of theatrical questioning with the palm of his hand, “oh, but how could I mess with an academic researcher?” 

In that moment, Genji finally understood his brother. He wasn’t messing.

Hanzo was being serious the whole time… only… and that’s why Genji so easily misunderstood his tone… Hanzo was happy. Truly. 

Jubilant warmth filled the younger Shimada everywhere, from his toes up to the top of his head, and he couldn’t help but laugh along with Hanzo when the CEO of the Shimada corp raised a mockingly questioning eyebrow at him. 

“So, Mr. Shimada, are you coming?” Hanzo asked, and Genji couldn’t help but laugh more his mockingly serious, straight posture. In a second, he was ready to retaliate: 

“Oh, Mr. Shimada, it’s my choice where we eat so if you want good for your lactose-intolerant, soy-allergic digestion--”

Hanzo’s eyes widened in a second, “I assumed we would--”

“--then you follow  _ my _ lead, and come with me to the best chain of supermarket you’ll ever find in Finland.”

“Supe-- Genji, are you joking?”

His evil, villainous laughter echoed on the corridor as he repeated, this time in Japanese,  _ “Hanzo, don’t tell me you still haven’t been to a supermarket!!”  _

From the heavily judgemental narrowing of his brother’s eyes, Genji had his answer right there. He had been, and the experience was definitely not to his liking. 

One thing was sure.. Genji had no idea what Jesse had done to his brother, but Genji blessed the gods and Jesse for taking their time and letting his brother finally unwind. He was sure to prepare a present for Jesse and show his gratitude for this… 

Miracle. He couldn’t call it anything else. Hanzo was smiling, his posture remained stiff and his demeanor hadn’t changed one bit, the image of a distant noble gracing the halls of the university just by his mere presence, commanding the very air around him and yet… it was him. The dragon, tame and momentarily free. 

In the whole wide world, Genji couldn’t have asked for anything more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :3 I forgot to tell you in the beginning that this chapter was un-beta'd. What did you think, was it that bad? Also, I have some bad news, my life is in an absolute mess now (moving across the country, finishing Master's thesis and trying to stay financially afloat) so it might take a month that I update again. I hope you will still come back and read, your feedback and reading is very important to me <3 Have a wonderful summer and a great day!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Get ready for a long ride, this fic is over 62k words (newly updated data) and still in progress. Hit me up on tumblr, akai-ayleid.tumblr.com :3
> 
> Check out the fan art from dibsonmehh!! I can't express how much I love it!! http://dibsonmehhh.tumblr.com/post/153738285366/shout-out-to-akai-shinda-who-writes-the-sweetest


End file.
